


love's not a competition (but i'm winning)

by ganymede_elegy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Minor Angst, it doesn't go to plan, mentions of Jon/Daenerys, mentions of Jon/Margaery, mentions of Jon/Val, mentions of Jon/Ygritte, sansa plays matchmaker, you can probably figure out how
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25337872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganymede_elegy/pseuds/ganymede_elegy
Summary: She's bored.She needs a project.Sansa Stark likes projects. She's good at setting her mind to something and making it happen. The more it involves lists and charts and graphs and color-coordinated binders with tabs, the better.She decides Jon Snow is her project.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 566
Kudos: 733





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa Stark is _bored_.

This is her first year at Winterfell U (her second year of college altogether), and she's _so bored_.

Robb is helping, somewhat. He invites her to hang out with him and his friends, but she always feels like an intruder and she wonders if Robb is just inviting her because he feels bad for her.

He probably does. She doesn't like to dwell on her first year of college, down at KLU. She'd been so excited to go South and it had blown up in her face magnificently. She remembers her starry eyes and meeting handsome and charming Joffrey. She remembers Joffrey taking her to fancy restaurants and parties with politicians and minor celebrities. She remembers Joffrey buying her dresses and lending her some of his mother's jewels to wear. And she remembers Joffrey backhanding her when she said something in front of one of his dad's friends that had embarrassed him (he hadn't done it at the party, no, he'd waited until they left and got back to his parent's house and he'd done it and then told her never to embarrass him again).

And so she'd fled back North.

Now she's at WU with no friends, because all of her friends in high school had gone South, like she was supposed to. Robb is the only person she really knows on campus and she appreciates his gesture, but his friends are _his_ friends.

She's bored.

She needs a project.

Sansa Stark _likes_ projects. She's good at setting her mind to something and making it happen. The more it involves lists and charts and graphs and color-coordinated binders with tabs, the better. She hasn't made friends here yet and she definitely doesn't want to date and her classes and homework only keep her so busy. She needs a project.

She decides Jon Snow is her project.

He was Robb's roommate in their freshman year. Sansa had still been in high school when Robb had started mentioning him. Jon's name kept coming up more and more, she remembers Arya cackling at dinner one night and asking Robb if they were dating. Robb had rolled his eyes and said "I don't talk about him any more than Sansa talks about Jeyne or Beth, don't reverse-sexism me," which had led to a lengthy debate about sexism in general.

Anyway, she'd never met this Jon Snow until she came to WU and Robb had started inviting her to hang with his friends. She usually turns this offer down except for the dining hall, because she hates eating alone, and that is where she first meets Jon Snow.

Robb had mentioned a week ago that Jon hasn't had a girlfriend in a while, making some joke about him needing to get laid because he was so tense all the time (Jon had given Robb an annoyed side-eye and kept eating without response).

And so, Sansa comes up with her new project.

* * *

She starts a Jon Snow notebook. (She decorates the front cover with lots of hearts and glitter puffy paint.)

On page one she goes over the facts: Jon Snow is in his final year of school and has had three relationships of varying lengths.

On page two, she comes up with a list of pros and cons: he's good looking, in a dark, somber kind of way. She thinks his hair is too long and he always looks like someone just kicked his puppy, but he works out. Or, she thinks he works out, she can't tell. He looks fit, so she just assumes he goes to the gym.

So, in the looks department, it shouldn't be too hard to find a girl that'll like him, but she's not just looking to hook him up, she's looking to wife him up.

When Sansa Stark commits to a project, she _commits_ to a project.

Personality might be a tougher barrier. He's so _quiet_. He lets everyone else around him talk (Robb is a talker, though, and he tends to dominate any conversation he's in, so she'll give Jon a pass for this.)

She slowly and methodically collects information about Jon Snow from Robb.

She finds out he's going into social work and that surprises her, until she finds out that his mom had died when he was a kid, he never knew his dad, and he'd bounced around the foster system until he turned 18.

Finding out about his relationships is harder, because Robb doesn't know too much and it seems like he and Jon never really discuss this? Which is insane, she thinks, remembering back to high school when she, Jeyne, and Beth would spend _hours_ dissecting every little thing a boy did and what it meant. The fact that Robb and Jon don't seem to do this boggles her mind.

It takes her a while, but she gets names.

Jon barely has social media, just a Facebook page that she suspects someone set up for him. It's got one blurry picture and no updates except for people posting on his birthday, and one time, years back, listing him as _in a relationship_ with Ygritte Wilde.

Page Three: Ygritte Wilde.

She stalks Ygritte's page and has to scroll back _years_ , but she finds more information. It looks like he and Ygritte dated in high school for almost two years before breaking up to go to different schools. She has a lot of pictures of them together and Sansa thinks Jon's baby face is adorable. No wonder he grows a beard now, she thinks, giggling at how _young_ he looks in these photos.

  
From what she can tell, Ygritte is sporty and brash. Her posts rant about feminism and saving the earth and Sansa finds herself nodding along to a lot of the posts. There's pictures of her hiking and rock climbing and Sansa thinks Jon is probably into this, too (there are definitely pictures of them on trails together).

Page Four: Val Rayder.

Val is a tattoo artist in Winter Town and Sansa wonders how they met.

She wonders if Jon has a tattoo.

Val doesn't have a lot of personal photos on her social media, mostly just her art (which isn't Sansa's taste, but she can appreciate that it's good). She scrolls and scrolls and scrolls and doesn't find any photos or posts about Jon. She's not sure how long they dated or how serious they were. Robb had only mentioned they'd dated when Jon was in his second year (maybe first? Robb couldn't seem to remember but had mentioned Val coming to their dorm, which they'd only been in for the first two years before transitioning to an on-campus apartment with Theon). Sansa thinks Val wasn't that serious.

Page Five: Daenerys Targaryen.

Daenerys is the easiest to stalk and the easiest to get information on from Robb. She'd been the most recent and had lasted a little under a year. Robb doesn't seem to like her that much, but when pressed, he just shrugs and can't really explain why.

Daenerys's social media is radical. It's all about bringing down the government and socialism and equal rights for women and just like with Ygritte's posts, Sansa finds herself nodding along. Ok, maybe Daenerys's opinions are a little more violent than Sansa's, but she thinks she can agree with some of the sentiments.

If this girl had any pictures of Jon, she's taken them down. All except one, which is a group shot and she must have either missed it or kept it up because it had other people in it. In the photo, she's sitting on Jon's lap and they're a study in contrasts. Daenerys is in a tight silver dress and it makes her platinum blonde hair look almost silver and Jon is in all black with his black hair and black beard. She's grinning widely at the camera, glass of white wine in her hand, and Jon isn't _frowning_ , necessarily, but he isn't _smiling_ either, and he's clutching his beer. This photo isn't from too long ago and Sansa suspects it was near the end of the relationship, and she thinks, if she studies it hard enough, that she can sense the tension between them in this photo. From what Robb says, it had been an explosive breakup. (She honestly can't imagine Jon being _explosive,_ though. The most emotion she's ever seen from him is a half smile at something dumb Theon says.)

On the sixth page of her Snow-tebook, as she has come to call it, Sansa makes a list of the qualities Jon seems to like: brash, opinionated, strong willed, passionate. She almost adds "political" to the list, but she hadn't seen anything on Val's page about politics, so she's not sure that's the important part to Jon. He might just like their enthusiasm. When she does hang out with Robb and Jon is there, she tries to steer the conversation towards politics a few times but none of them take the bait. Jon doesn't even look remotely interested.

Page seven is supposed to be a list of potential wives, but honestly, the only girl Sansa can think of that even remotely meets the criteria is Margaery Tyrell.

She's not athletic like Ygritte had been, but Sansa thinks that Daenerys hadn't looked particularly athletic. She's not sure about Val (Val is always going to be the question mark here, Sansa scowls. Her social media had been so impersonal). Margaery is loud and brash and that seems to check Jon's boxes, she thinks. She's beautiful, too. All Jon's girlfriends had been extremely pretty (maybe not Ygritte, she thinks, not traditionally, but she'd had a sort of untamed beauty to her that was magnetic). Margaery is brunette, and that's different, but maybe Jon wants to steer clear of redheads and blondes now? Or maybe he doesn't care about hair color.

When she thinks about it, she's not sure it's a _perfect_ match. She thinks Margaery is probably most like Danaerys, which had apparently ended poorly. Margaery isn't political or radical, but they both are fashionable and well kept and opinionated (though Margaery's opinions seem to stray more towards which Housewife of Pentos is secretly a sociopath and which restaurants have the best chefs).

Still, Margaery is the only one on campus she can think of (not that she knows a ton of people here yet, but still).

* * *

Sansa can't get anything from Robb on what Jon is like in relationships. The most she gets is an eyeroll and a muttered comment about being whipped, but she isn't sure she should take this too seriously. Guys tend to have a skewed sense of these things, she's found. She remembers in high school, Theon had called Robb _whipped_ simply for buying a girl flowers on Valentines Day.

From what she can tell of Jon, he's quiet and usually goes along with whatever the others want to do. He's polite. He rarely smiles.

She's a little frustrated with how little information she's able to obtain. She shouldn't be surprised, though. Robb's an idiot and terrible with details. She knows this. Still, she'd hoped he'd know his best friend a _little_ better.

Two weeks after beginning Operation: Jon Snow, she decides she's getting nothing else helpful from Robb and she needs to just start.

* * *

She waits until her and Margaery's class together (History of Old Valyria: from the Ghiscari conquest to the Doom) and starts up a conversation. They've talked a few times, bonded over some designer boots Sansa was wearing (Sansa had also casually brought up guys and found out that yes, Margaery is straight and single). Sansa dusts off her old social skills that she hasn't used in a few months and decides to befriend Margaery.

The plan begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... basically after my last fic I decided I wanted to continue writing because I enjoyed it so much, but I needed to write something just a *tad* bit lighter...
> 
> I have one other chapter of this written and some vague idea of how I'd like it to go, but for now it's an unknown number of parts.


	2. Chapter 2

She and Margaery actually get along pretty well. They have enough in common that it's easy to start hanging out together. At first, it's Sansa going to Marg's dorm to watch Real Housewives of Pentos, but eventually Sansa suggests they get some lunch together one day.

That day just so happens to coincide with a text from Robb saying he and Jon were at one of the food stalls and does she want to join them?

“Look who's here!” Sansa says with a grin, pulling Margaery towards the table. “Marg, this is my brother Robb and this is his friend Jon. Guys, this is Margaery!”

She's already sitting down at the table and Marg follows her lead and Robb gives her a look because he's not sure why she's acting surprised to see him, considering he texted (she knows it'll show up as _read_ on his end, so she can't even pretend she didn't see it. Just as she assumed, though, Robb lets it go).

She's already decided what topic of conversation she's going to start: gardening. Well, maybe not _gardening_ , specifically, but plants and the outdoors. She found out that Marg is really into flowers (or her family is, Sansa can't really tell). But either way, Marg has a huge greenhouse back at her parent's house and Jon likes hiking (she thinks?) so she figures this is a good way to bond them.

The problem, it turns out, is that neither Margaery nor Jon play along.

Marg, instead, starts flirting with _both_ of them. Robb flirts back and Jon doesn't seem to mind all that much and Sansa is getting really frustrated. This isn't going to plan. But Marg's shirt is low cut and Sansa does see Jon's eyes dip down and back up a few times, so she takes this as a good sign.

* * *

She tries a different tactic.

“Jon's cute, right?” she says as they leave the dining hall.

“I usually prefer my men a little less serious, but he definitely looks like he could be some fun,” Marg giggles. This is not what Sansa wants to hear. What she wants is _he's exactly what I imagined my future husband to be, I'm already planning our wedding._

“He's like, really smart,” Sansa adds. She's not totally sure he is, but whenever they have talked, he's seemed intelligent enough. More so than most of the men she's met.

* * *

She thinks maybe she needs to get to know Jon more, see if she can find that _one thing_ that will make him and Margaery realize they're in love.

On page eight of the Snow-tebook, she makes a list of topics to start bringing up over the next few weeks, and she ticks them off one by one.

He doesn't really watch TV, so that's a no-go.

He likes reading but he prefers non-fiction, histories mostly (from Marg's attention span in History of Old Valyria, she thinks this is also a no-go).

His favorite band is The Watch, an indie group from the North and she's surprised at this and can't stop herself from asking which album is his favorite. He looks surprised, too, and Robb groans and actually smashes his face into his pizza when they start discussing _Beyond the Wall_ (Jon's favorite) versus _The Night Queen_ (Sansa's). They talk for so long about The Watch that she doesn't manage to ask about any of the other topics on her list and she doesn't even realize this until lunch is over and they're all headed off to class.

* * *

Robb mentions a party and she mentions it to Marg and Marg decides they'll go.

Jon will be there (Sansa had made sure, asking Theon this time because she thinks she's been asking too many questions about Jon and even her idiot brother is bound to start noticing). She knows Theon from when they were kids and he's immediately suspicious of her question and she curses herself. Theon might not be a genius himself, but he's always been cunning and a little too nosy for his own good.

She and Marg doll themselves up (Sansa feels a weight in the pit of her stomach when she puts on one of Marg's dresses. She hasn't worn anything nice or fancy since the night Joffrey hit her, but she forces the feeling away. Having a panic attack will not help her plans).

She suggests a black dress for Marg, because Jon likes black and it really brings out Marg's sparkling personality. And her boobs. (Sansa hasn't yet determined if Jon is a boobs or ass guy yet. She's seen him look at Marg's cleavage, but she also caught him checking out Marg's ass when she went to the bathroom the other day at lunch.)

When they show up, she finds Jon immediately in the crowd and pulls Marg over and shouts “Jon, I had no idea you'd be here!” over the music. Jon nods at her and Marg and takes another sip of his beer and Sansa wishes, maybe, that she'd picked a more talkative project. He was fine the other day talking about The Watch, but whenever she _needs_ him to say something, he clams up.

“Do you dance?” she shouts to Jon. “Marg _loves_ to dance.”

Jon shrugs and leans in closer so he doesn't have to yell and says “not really a dancer, no.”

Marg also shrugs and says “too bad” and then goes off to where the dancing is and joins some guy there.

Sansa is furious.

Why won't Jon cooperate? It's not that hard. Hot girl likes dancing. Boy dances. The end.

“Do you want a drink?” Jon asks and she suddenly realizes he's leaned in even closer to her and his mouth is right next to her ear. His breath stirs her hair and it tickles and a shiver jolts down her spine.

No, she doesn't want a drink, she _wants_ him to go over to Margaery and pull her away from the frat bro currently feeling her up and declare his undying love for her. But Jon isn't even _looking_ at Marg and it's infuriating.

“Fine,” she huffs, and Jon puts his hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the kitchen of the frat house where all the alcohol is. He asks what she wants and she shrugs (she doesn't actually know, she never drank in high school and in her first year, she just drank whatever Joff handed to her).

Jon studies her for a bit and then grabs two bottles and makes her a vodka lemonade and when she takes a sip, she finds that she loves it. She _loves_ citrus flavored things, and she's thankful Jon randomly pulled this mixer out of the group. Jon refills his own cup from the beer keg and then comes back to stand next to her. He has to stand close because the kitchen is so crowded and he starts asking her about her classes.

She doesn't know why he's talking about this, of all things, and she thinks maybe he's just bad at small talk. But what she really can't fathom is why he's talking to _her_. Why isn't he out there asking Marg how _her_ classes are going.

_Ugh,_ she thinks. _Robb must have put him on little sister duty_.

She's been around Jon long enough now that she knows she won't be able to persuade him to leave her alone around a bunch of drunk frat guys when Robb told him not to, so she gives in and talks to him as best she can. She tells him about her History of Valyria class that _Marg is also in, remember Margaery? Wasn't her dress nice?_

  
He doesn't take the bait and instead asks her how she likes the class, because he found it a bit underwhelming when he took it two years ago and he can recommend books that cover more if she's interested in the topic (she might actually be, the professor had blown by some things that sounded really intriguing, but she won't tell Jon this right now because she needs him to _focus)._

But she's having a hard time focusing, herself. The kitchen is hot, too many people, and Jon has to stand _so close_ to her. She's leaned back against the kitchen counter and he's next to her, turned to face her, so close she can feel the front of his jeans brushing against her thigh. He keeps his head ducked down close to hers so they don't have to yell over the music and other people.

She feels a little dizzy (maybe it's the drink, too, she's not used to alcohol), and Jon seems to notice and curls his arm around her waist and pulls her through the crowd and out the back of the frat house onto the deck. There's people out here, too, but less than inside and the cool autumn air is refreshing. She's grateful for it until she realizes that they are now even _further_ from Margaery.

This isn't going at all how she planned and she feels incredibly frustrated. Her plans _always_ work. It's her _thing_.

( _Is it_ , her mind whispers. _King's Landing didn't work out the way you planned._ )

She shakes that out of her head, the motion causing her artfully crafted high pony to loosen (her hair is so pin straight that her hair ties tend to slip right out if she's not careful).

Jon gives her a lopsided smile that crinkles up the corner of his eyes and says “these parties aren't really my thing, either.”

What does he mean _either_? They're _totally_ Marg's thing.

“If you wanna leave, I can take you home,” he offers, still playing protector for Robb. “Or, I mean,” he stutters and runs a hand through his hair and it's dark out here, but is he _blushing?_ “I don't mean _take_ _you_ _home,_ I meant I could walk you back to the dorms. And your friend, obviously.”

_Oh,_ that's why he's embarrassed. He wants to walk Marg home. _Finally_ , he's working with the plan.

She tells him she'll be happy to have him walk them home, later, and then she's heading back inside to find Marg and he follows. Inside, it's hot and crowded and she thinks that maybe parties like this aren't her thing, either. She finds Marg still dancing and when she gets close, Marg pulls her in and Sansa remembers that what she _does_ like is dancing.

She knows she should be trying to get Jon to interact with Margaery but instead she finds herself dancing. At some point, she notices Jon watching, and she's relieved. He's watching Marg dance and this is going great.

She and Marg dance for what seems like hours, going back and refilling their drinks (Jon always with them, escorting them back and forth through the crowd of drunken frat bros and Sansa hopes it has less to do with him babysitting her and more with wanting to be near Margaery). She tells Marg that Jon offered to walk them home and Marg gasps and puts her hand to her heart and says “how chivalrous” before bursting into giggles. Sansa finds herself giggling, too, and she might be a little drunk.

Jon is true to his word and walks them back to the dorms. She and Marg live in different dorms and she rejoices when she remembers hers is closer. When they get near it, she says “this is me. Jon, you'll make sure Margaery gets home safe, right?”

“Uh, sure,” Jon says, hand coming up and rubbing the back of his neck. He must be nervous about being alone with her, Sansa thinks. “Are you sure you'll be ok...” he trails off as she waves her hands at him dismissively.

“Duh, I'm right here.” She's barely ten feet from the front door of her building. What, does he want to _walk her up_ or something? Make sure she gets to her room safe? Tuck her into bed? He's really taking this little sister duty to heart.

Jon gives her one last frown and doesn't move so she rolls her eyes and goes and swipes her card to get into the building. Once she's inside the doors, she waves and gestures at them to get going. When Jon finally turns, Marg gives her a look and Sansa gives her a thumbs up and then goes upstairs.

She peels off the dress and kicks off her heels and thinks about grabbing her toiletries bag to go wash the makeup off her face, but honestly, now that she's in her pajamas all she wants to do is lay down and go to sleep. She crawls under her covers and her eyes are heavy and she closes them. If everything goes according to plan, Marg will seduce Jon when they get to her dorm and thus will start their everlasting love.

Something in her stomach twists and feels sour and Sansa thinks maybe she had too much to drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is actually so fun to write, I'm having a great time.
> 
> Thanks for all the encouragement on the first chapter, I always appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

The next day she wakes up with less of a hangover than she was expecting, considering how nauseous she'd felt last night.

She checks her phone for any sort of text from Marg, but finds nothing.

She lays in bed for a while and finally lets out a huff and texts Margaery.

_Did you get home safe last night ;)_

Margaery takes a while to answer, she must not be up yet, but eventually it comes through.

_you mean did mr chivalry walk me home? yes, I made it safe, no need to worry_

Sansa frowns at her phone. Jon didn't do anything. He didn't make a move at all. No attempt at even a kiss at the door?

She doesn't know what to say back to this, so she gets up instead, grabs her shower bag and heads to the bathroom. She passes a few people in the hall and gives them a bleary good morning and when she gets to the bathroom, she sees herself in the mirror and groans. Not taking her makeup off last night was a mistake, she looks like a raccoon (a very tired raccoon who needs to brush her hair and who's plans are crumbling down around her).

In the shower, she tries to figure out what went wrong. Was it just Jon being chivalrous? No kissing on the first date? She knows Jon's polite, but she honestly never pegged him as being that old-fashioned. She had assumed that if Marg was willing, Jon would have no problem kissing her.

(She feels strange and there's something roiling in the pit of her stomach that she assumes is because of the alcohol.)

It's not until she's back in her dorm drying her hair that it hits her.

_Duh_ , she thinks. Margaery had been drunk. Marg had drank just as much as Sansa had, no _wonder_ Jon hadn't done anything. He was a good guy who wouldn't take advantage of a drunk girl.

* * *

Over the next two weeks she brings Marg to lunch when she can, but nothing seems to progress and she's getting more and more frustrated.

She wants to hit Jon. She wants to hit Margaery.

Why can't they just go along with her plan? She _needs_ her plan to work. She _needs_ this. Ever since she went South, nothing she's done has worked out and she can't let this be _another_ failure.

* * *

One day she sees Robb and Jon at a table in the dining hall (why hadn't Robb texted her?) and they look like they're in the middle of an argument.

Well, not an argument, necessarily, but Robb is gesturing more than usual and there's a red tinge to his face. Jon is frowning and freezes when he sees her. Robb turns and sees her, too, and they both seem to force themselves to relax as she makes her way over.

“Hey,” she says, sitting down and looking between the two. Jon looks flushed now, the tips of his ears are red and she can even see the blush on his cheeks under his beard. Robb looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Robb says, clearing his throat. “Didn't realize you'd be here.”

“Yeah,” she gives a slight laugh, feeling suddenly uneasy with the tension. “I have class in a few and figured I'd stop by to grab something to eat.”

Robb nods and there's a silence and Sansa is about to make her excuses to leave whatever _this_ is, but Robb gets there first. “I actually have to head out,” he says and grabs his half finished food. “I'll see you later, yeah?”

She's not sure if he's talking to her or Jon, but before either can answer, Robb is gone.

“I feel like I interrupted something,” she says with another uncomfortable laugh.

“Huh?” Jon asks, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. “Oh, just roommate stuff,” he shrugs (she wants to pry but she knows she'll probably get more out of Robb than Jon, so she lets it go for now).

She's also slightly annoyed because if she knew Robb and Jon would be here, if she knew Robb would have to leave, she would've brought Marg. Then she could've made her own excuses so Marg and Jon could have some alone time. Instead, it's just _her_ and Jon and the leftover tension of whatever conversation he and Robb had just been having.

“Speaking of the apartment,” Jon says quickly, changing the topic when he probably realizes that she wants to ask more questions. “We're having a party there on Friday. If you wanna come.”

“Does Robb want his little sister at his party?” she grins and Jon gives a shrug and smiles back at her.

“Yeah, we already talked about who we were inviting. It's not gonna be like that frat party,” he goes on. “Our apartment isn't that big, just some friends.”

This is perfect, she thinks, and she can feel her smile get even bigger. She can bring Marg and then they'll be in Jon's apartment. Where Jon lives. Where his room is. Where his bed is. All she'll have to do is make sure Marg doesn't get too drunk and everything should be perfect.

“Yeah, great!” she says. “Do you guys need help setting up? I'm _great_ at hostessing.”

Jon nods and gives her another little half smile. “That'd be cool,” he says. “If you wanna come over at seven? We'll probably get some pizza before everyone gets there at nine.”

“Perfect,” she says and excitedly claps her hands together, which makes him laugh. “I'll see you then!”

* * *

She and Marg arrive at half past seven ( _always keep them waiting,_ she remembers Beth quoting once from a magazine).

Marg looks great and Sansa is so excited for this party. This will be it.

She's never been to Robb's apartment before, and it's cleaner than she imagined it would be.

“We cleaned for the party,” Robb says through a mouthful of pizza when she brings this up. “We're not _animals.”_

The five of them eat and discuss what still needs to be done. To her dismay, Marg flirts with Jon, Robb, _and_ Theon as they rearrange the alcohol and jello shots in the fridge to make room for more drinks that the guests will be bringing.

Robb and Theon start setting up a table for beer pong and Margaery gleefully directs them where to put it and how to rearrange their furniture for the optimal party experience. Sansa's in the kitchen, frowning, when Jon comes up and leans against the counter next to her.

“So uh, the other night it seemed like you might be interested in some of those Old Valyria books?” He's looking out into the living area where Robb, Theon, and Marg are all yelling at each other about feng shui and beer pong.

She should tell him to get out there and help to be near Marg, but she honestly _is_ kind of interested so she finds herself nodding.

“You can take your pick, I have a bunch in my room,” he says and brings a hand up to rub at his beard.

She looks out to the living room and decides this isn't the most romantic situation anyway, so it's not the end of the world if Jon isn't with Marg right now. She lets Jon lead her down the hall to one of the closed doors, which he opens and lets her in.

His room is fairly sparse, she's not exactly surprised, he doesn't seem like a frills kind of guy. The black sheets don't surprise her, neither does the stack of textbooks on his desk or the small, utilitarian bookshelf filled with history books, nor the neat line of sneakers by his closet doors. All of it is very spartan and _Jon_ , she thinks (except for the cork board above his desk that just _screams_ 'freshman dorm décor').

She should be going to the bookcase, but she finds herself drawn to the cork board and the jumble of things pinned to it.

There's concert tickets and wristbands, birthday cards, photos, some drawings. She takes a closer look at one of the drawings, a wolf howling, and thinks she recognizes it as Val's work. The photos make her smile, most are some combination of Jon, Robb, and Theon, but there's other people, too. A boy with a round, kind face with his arm around a petite girl holding a baby. A young boy with the most dolorous expression she's ever seen standing with a teenage Jon and Ygritte. An older man with an easy smile.

She's looking at the older man when she feels Jon walk up behind her.

“Davos,” he says and she looks over her shoulder at him.

“Davos?”

Jon points at the photo of the older man. “My foster father,” he says with a fond smile and she feels something bubbling up in her stomach that she can't describe, “for a little while, at least. He was my favorite.”

“I didn't picture you as a photo guy,” she says because she doesn't know what else to say, and he laughs.

“I'm not, really. But Robb had this when we first moved into the dorms and he didn't want it, so he gave it to me and stuff just started collecting over the years.” Now that he mentions it, Sansa realizes the cork board is the exact same one her mom had bought her when she went to KLU (she'd left it in her dorm down there when she fled).

She can hear Robb, Theon, and Marg still arguing in the living room and she's suddenly very aware that she and Jon are alone in his room and standing very close and this is unacceptable. She doesn't want Marg getting the wrong idea.

“Books,” she says and pushes her way past Jon to his bookshelf.

“Yeah, take whatever you want,” he says, gesturing at the shelf. “But if you're looking for something on Old Valyria, I'd recommend this one,” he pulls out a thick paperback with a cracked spine.

She nods and takes the book and pretends to read the back because she suddenly doesn't know what to do with herself. Are her social skills so bad after King's Landing? She's never had this much trouble interacting with someone before.

“So,” he says and she looks up and he's reaching into his back pocket and he pulls out what looks like two tickets. “I have these,” he says, holding them out so she can see them. “I was gonna drag Robb along, but he doesn't even like them and I figured since you're a fan...”

They're The Watch tickets for next Thursday and she gasps and grabs them out of his hand.

“How'd you get these?” she almost squeals, studying them to make sure they're real. “They've been sold out for _forever_.”

When she looks back at him, he's shrugging and looking anywhere but at her. “My friend Tormund works at the venue, he had some extra.”

She stares down at the tickets in her hands. What she _should_ do is suggest he take Margaery. Especially if they're going to play anything off _The Night Queen_ (the ablum was essentially written as a love letter to the lead singer's girlfriend at the time). It would be incredibly romantic. She finds she can't bring herself to suggest this.

“You don't have to,” she hears Jon say and she realizes she's been silently staring at the tickets for much too long. “I can take Robb, it's no big deal, or Theon'll go, he likes concerts.”

“No!” she says quickly. “I'll go.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding unsure, but he finally makes eye contact with her again.

“Yeah, yes,” she can't help the excitement that pulses through her. “I want to go.”

“Ok,” he says just as Robb's voice interrupts them.

“You guys planning on coming out?”

Sansa looks up at the doorway to Jon's room where Robb's standing, leaning against the frame and giving Jon a look she can't quite decipher. _Roommate stuff_ , she guesses.

“Yeah,” Jon says, “we'll be right out.”

Robb nods, hesitates, then heads back to the living room.

Sansa hands Jon the tickets back and hugs the Valyria book to her chest and nearly skips back out to the rest of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm having the best time writing this nonsense. Hopefully you guys are enjoying it, too!


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Jon's warning that the party wasn't going to be too big, it's still crowded because their apartment is so small, and who knew they had so many friends?

She finds out she's terrible at beer pong, so bad, in fact, that Theon _cries_ while laughing at her and her ever increasing fury over it. Robb is her teammate (apparently Margaery had enough sense to realize she was going to be this bad and had jumped ship to Theon's team) and he doesn't seem surprised, necessarily, but he isn't happy, either.

He sighs in frustration when she throws and the ball goes so wide it gets lost in the crowd and Theon sinks to the floor in what Sansa believes is an unnecessary and over dramatic bout of laughter.

“You're getting better!” Marg shouts encouragingly from across the table.

“Theon, shut _up_ ,” Sansa yells at the same time. “If you don't stop laughing I'm gonna tell Asha about the time you borrowed her bike and bent the wheel trying to jump that ramp.”

_That_ shuts him up. Nothing scares Theon more than his own sister (Sansa and Asha had always been on oddly good terms, despite Asha being four years older. They didn't hang in the same group, but whenever they _were_ around each other, it included a lot of eye rolling at their brothers, which was a nice bonding experience).

She quits beer pong after they lose and scans the room for Jon, only to find him over near the TV talking to... is that _Val_?

_No, no, no, no_ , Sansa thinks. She can't be here, why is she _here_?

Sansa makes her way through the crowd and pretends like she's just casually walking by and just so happens to catch Jon's eye. He smiles and she takes that as an invitation to come over and talk.

“Hey,” he says when she gets to him and the girl, who up close is _definitely_ Val, gives her a once over. There's a dark haired man standing next to Val that she doesn't recognize. Both are covered in tattoos (and even though it's not Sansa's style, she's a little envious of how _cool_ Val looks). “This is Val and Jarl,” Jon says, pointing at them. “Guys, this is Sansa.”

She makes polite introductions and tries very hard not to let it slip that she knows Val and Jon used to date. Except, now that she sees them together, she wonders if they actually had. They seem so casual around each other and Jarl and Val are very clearly dating. Maybe Robb had gotten it wrong?

“How do you guys know each other?” she finally blurts out when she can't stand the curiosity anymore.

Val laughs and says “we met at a bar and dated for a little.”

Well, that answers that. Sansa decides she appreciates Val's directness. She barely even needed to pry.

“But we realized pretty quick we were better as friends,” Jon rushes to say, looking between her and Val and he seems a little nervous for some reason.

“Definitely just friends now,” Val laughs and gives Jon a look. “I even gave him his tattoo.”  
  


“ _What_ ,” Sansa breathes, grin breaking out on her face and she turns to Jon, eyes wide. “Can I see it?”

Jon is definitely red now and scowling at Val, who tilts her head back and laughs loudly and unreservedly. Even Jarl is snickering to himself.

“Wait, is it somewhere bad?” Sansa gasps as the other two laugh and Jon quickly shakes his head.

“Gods, no, I was just drunk when I got it. It's not bad,” he shoots a withering look at Val and Jarl. Then he sighs and pulls the sleeve of his t-shirt up and sure enough, there's a tattoo of a wolf howling on his shoulder.

“Oh, that's the drawing from your room!”

He nods and she sees Val lift an eyebrow in Jon's direction, but she doesn't pay too much attention, because she's looking at the wolf up close now. It's really well done, Val is very good, she thinks. She can't help but bring her finger up to trace along the wolf's muzzle and for some reason she finds it fascinating to watch the lines move and stretch when Jon moves his arms.

“Jon used to think he was a warg when he was a kid,” Val says and Sansa detects a hint of teasing in her tone.

“Fuck _off_ ,” Jon groans but Sansa is _fascinated_. Val makes a zipping motion across her lips and then pulls Jarl away with a grin and starts up a conversation with a group of people Sansa doesn't know.

“A warg?” Sansa asks, and she gives Jon her best wide-eyed pout (the look _always_ works on her dad and Robb).

Jon looks like he's not going to say anything for a second but she adds a bit of trembling lip to her pout and he relents. “I thought maybe I was a wolf or something,” he mutters into his cup. “Cause I didn't have parents and the home I was in was way up North and there were wolves all around. I thought maybe I was part of their pack stuck as a person. I used to have dreams that I ran around with them.”

Sansa doesn't know what to say to this, so she ends up throwing her arms around his neck so abruptly he almost spills his beer. Jon stiffens up immediately when she does this and she pulls back quickly (he must not be a hugger, she thinks).

“I told Val when I was drunk and she insisted I get the tattoo. And then I vowed to never tell her _anything again_ ,” he says this last part loudly and in Val's direction, and Val turns and laughs at him again before going back to her conversation.

“I like it,” Sansa says and pushes his sleeve up and looks at the tattoo again. “I think it suits you.”

Jon shrugs and once again she's fascinated by the way this makes the ink shift and change. He has really nice arms. It takes her a few seconds to remember that she should tell _Margaery_ that.

When she looks around the party, she sees Marg and Robb have now teamed up against two people Sansa doesn't know. What she _should_ do is make Jon go over there or bring Marg here so they can talk, but Marg seems like she's having fun, so Sansa decides she won't bother her for now (and then she ends up drinking just a little too much and doesn't make any headway on her plans at all).

* * *

Over the next week, she manages to completely forget about her plan altogether. She's so excited for the concert, she can barely think of anything else.

Jon texts her that Robb gave him her number (had they not exchanged numbers before?) and tells her he'll come pick her up at her dorm on Thursday.

She spends much too long in front of her mirror on Thursday trying to pick the _perfect_ outfit. What if she meets the band? She needs to look good.

Eventually, her roommate Alys huffs and rolls her eyes and pulls Sansa over to her closet and makes her try on some of Alys's clothes. Alys is much more punk rock than Sansa is (ok, if she's being honest, Sansa is zero percent punk rock) and she ends up in a pair of black skinny jeans and a gold camisole that feels almost indecent with how clingy it is, a leather jacket, and knee high boots to complete the look.

“There, _that's_ a concert outfit,” Alys says with a satisfied smile, spinning Sansa in the mirror. “Stop playing with the shirt,” she scolds and knocks Sansa's hand away from the neckline, where Sansa had been trying to tug it up.

  
“You can see part of my bra,” she huffs back, trying to readjust the shirt again to cover the lace edge of her bra.

“Yeah, that's the point,” Alys laughs. “Be glad I didn't give you my mesh shirt,” she grins and Sansa feels herself flush. “You wanna talk about a shirt that shows your bra...”

“Stop,” Sansa laughs and fidgets with the shirt again. She shouldn't wear this. She can't pull this off. This _or_ the heavy smoky eye Alys had helped her with. It's too much.

She's about to tell Alys this and change into a more sensible shirt when her phone buzzes and it's a text from Jon saying he's downstairs. She hesitates briefly before Alys rolls her eyes again, picks up Sansa's clutch, hands it to her, and shoves her out the door.

Jon's waiting outside and she's a little disgruntled at how easily he pulls off the concert-goer vibe in his black jeans and black t-shirt and red and black plaid shirt. She and Alys had spent hours on her look and Jon had probably thrown this on at the last minute. He looks up as she opens the door and she watches his eyes grow wide as he takes in her outfit.

She bites at her lip and shrugs a little and says “I know, I can't pull it off, but Alys insisted.”

“What?” Jon says, startled and looking back up at her face again. “No, you look good. Really good.”

Sansa had never been insecure before Joffrey. When she was in high school, she would have preened at Jon's words (done a twirl, tossed her hair, coy smile). Now she feels unsure how to take a compliment and she finds herself blushing furiously (which, from experience, she knows will turn her bright red from the roots of her hair to the neckline of this stupid shirt).

Jon gives her a smile and thankfully cuts the silence (she's grateful he doesn't mention her blush or her inability to come up with a response). “I figured since it isn't too far, we could walk?” She nods and he looks down at her boots (and, she supposes, the heel on them). “Are you gonna be ok walking in them?”

“These?” she says and dramatically kicks a foot out in front of her to show off the boot. “I'll be fine. You could even say they were _made_ for walking.”

“Oh gods,” he groans and tilts his head back to look at the sky and she finds herself grinning. He shakes his head at her in mock disappointment, but he's grinning too, and they head off into town.

* * *

Winterfell University campus is housed in what used to be Winterfell Castle (back in the times when there were still kings and queens and lords and ladies). It's dead center, with Wintertown spread out around it and so it's not too hard to get anywhere in the city from campus, which is nice.

Jon's from further North, Castle Black, but Sansa grew up here. Her family owns an estate outside the city limits, but her dad's office is near City Hall, and Sansa spent much of her childhood in the city (she remembers thinking that Wintertown was a poor excuse for a city and looking up pictures of King's Landing and dreaming of the day she could live in a _real_ city. She shakes this thought out of her head.)

As they walk, she points out places she's been and gives them all a rating out of five stars, which makes him laugh.

“You're a better tour guide than Robb,” he says and she scoffs.

“Of _course_ I am,” she says emphatically and that makes him laugh, too.

She likes when Jon laughs, she thinks. He doesn't do it that often, but he should. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and it lights up his face (she finds herself becoming more and more dramatic about her live-action Yelp reviews because the more fantastical she is, the more he laughs and she wants him to keep laughing).

* * *

The venue is bigger than she expected. The Watch isn't an _unknown_ band, but they also aren't playing arenas or anything.

She and Jon grab drinks and find a place to stand that's near enough to the stage to see well, but not close enough that they'll get jostled by people trying to get to the front.

She's never been to a concert like this and when the lights dip and the opening act comes out, she finds herself grinning. There's a lot of people around her and normally she's not one for crowds of strangers packed in this close, but there's a sense of camaraderie here, and with Jon standing next to her she knows she doesn't have anything to worry about.

The opening band is fine, but she's glad when they're done and The Watch comes on. She joins the crowd and screams when they take the stage and beside her, she hears Jon start to laugh, which only makes her scream louder as they start to play.

They kick off with _Talons_ , and she finds herself singing along and she keeps stealing glances at Jon to see if he's singing too (he's not really, but every once in a while she catches his lips moving and she feels triumphant).

Eventually they slow down and start playing _The Night Queen_ , the title track off her favorite album. She hears the opening chords and turns to grip Jon's arm and yells over the music “this is my favorite!”

Jon just smiles at her and she turns back to watch them play her favorite song and before she knows it she finds herself crying. She's crying and she realizes it's not just in a _I'm watching my favorite band play my favorite song_ way. She's _crying_ and she tries to wipe the tears away with her sleeve, but it's leather so it does a terrible job.

Jon turns to look at her and the smile slides off his face and into a frown. She can't look at him, but out of the corner of her eye, she watches him shrug out of his flannel and hand it to her. She doesn't put it on because she's still wearing her leather jacket, but she holds it up to her face to blot her tears and it's soft and warm and smells like pine and she closes her eyes and listens to the music and she feels Jon put his arm around her shoulder and he's _also_ warm and smells like pine and she leans against him.

When the song's over, she hands him back his flannel and excuses herself to the bathroom without meeting his eyes.

In the bathroom she wipes furiously at her cheeks, trying to get rid of the black smudges from the smoky eye Alys had worked so hard on. She feels stupid and wants to hide in here for the rest of the night, but she knows Jon will just come looking for her and the last thing she needs is him busting down the door of the women's room to find her. The thought makes her smile and gives her the courage to go back out.

* * *

Jon doesn't ask her any questions when they leave and start their walk back to campus. She's grateful but she feels like she ruined the night. They walk by a coffee shop that's still open and she makes him go inside and she buys an herbal tea with honey and she makes Jon get one, too.

“Your throat will thank you tomorrow,” she tells him in her best know-it-all voice. He just gives her a small laugh and accepts the tea.

There's more silence as they walk and she's not good with silences, so she finds herself talking.

“I used to listen to that song on repeat in high school,” she says and Jon looks over at her, but she keeps her focus on the sidewalk ahead. “I'd lay in bed and listen to it over and over and over and just sigh over how romantic it was. When I went South and met Joffrey, I remember thinking that I'd finally found the King to my Night Queen,” she forces a laugh at this and rolls her eyes at her own stupidity.

Jon doesn't say anything, but from his frown and the crease between his brows, she can tell he's never heard of Joffrey. Robb must have never told him, which makes sense. Everything with Joff had happened before she'd even _met_ Jon (and she thinks, if Robb had told anyone, it would have been Theon, who's known her since they were kids and who treats her like a little sister).

“He was so handsome and rich and a complete monster,” she says and she can _feel_ Jon tense up. “I didn't even notice when he first started telling me how stupid I was. Or when he'd make fun of the North and call us barbarians. I used to laugh along with him when he made fun of my dad,” she picks at the lid of her cup. She's never told that part to anyone (she'd given her parents and Robb a brief overview but then she chose to forget about the whole thing. It's what she does. She always just ignores things she doesn't like or doesn't want to think about. She's always had the privilege to be able to). “I didn't really even notice when he started telling me what to wear or how to do my hair and makeup. What to drink, what to eat. I really only noticed when he hit me.”

Jon stops walking for a brief moment, but then continues on and keeps in step with her. She can't look over at him, she doesn't want to see pity (or worse, disgust).

“It was only the once. I went to my dorm and packed a bag and slept at the airport until I got a flight home. I never went back.”

Robb and dad had made the long journey South to collect her things and while he was down there, dad had convinced the school to let her take her finals remotely. She's still not sure how he managed it, but she guesses being a Northern Senator has it's perks. So does being a Senator's daughter.

By the time she gets to this point in her story, they've made it back to campus.

“I didn't realize that I haven't listened to that song since I came back,” she says, finally getting to the point of the story (and honestly, she's not sure _why_ she's telling Jon all of this, except that she _wants_ to, even though she's also terrified of what he'll think of her). “I didn't realize that when I listen to the album, I skip over that song. Haven't heard it until tonight.”

They're in front of her door and she's thankful. If she looks at Jon and he's disgusted by her, she can just run inside and never see him again. She'll pretend he doesn't exist. She's good at doing that (except she probably shouldn't be, she thinks. It doesn't make her problems go away, it just makes them build and build until she's crying into her brother's best friend's shirt in the middle of a crowd of strangers.)

When she does look at him, he doesn't look disgusted. It's not even a look of pity. She can't tell what it is, but his eyes are intense and he sighs and takes a step towards her and brings his hand to cup her chin and presses a kiss to the top of her head (it _should_ feel like a brotherly gesture, Robb and Theon do this all the time, but it _doesn't_ ).

She's so shocked by the act that she doesn't know what to say and Jon isn't saying anything either. She realizes she doesn't _need_ him to say anything and he seems to know this, too. There's nothing for him to say, he can't make it better or change what happened. But he listened and she thinks that's important. She thinks maybe Jon Snow is her friend, and not just Robb's.

“I had a good time tonight,” she says, giving him a small smile. “I feel like I ruined it, but I _did_ have a good time.”  
  


Jon smiles back and says “nah, you didn't ruin it. I had a good time, too.” At this she smiles wider and throws her arms around his neck ( _he's not a hugger_ , she tries to remind herself, but she can't help it. He hugs her back, so she guesses he'll let it slide for now).

“I'm going to go sleep for twelve hours,” she laughs, trying to lighten the mood. “I've decided I'm skipping class tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “Go get some sleep. And hey, text me when you start reading that book, I'd love to know your thoughts on it.”

Her smile turns into a full grin and she nods at him and whispers “definitely” before she swipes her card to get into the dorm. She looks back over her shoulder as she goes through the second set of doors and he's still there, making sure she gets into her secured building safely. The idea makes her smile even more and she goes upstairs and falls into bed feeling lighter than she has in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this turned out a lot longer than I intended. I originally wasn't going to write the rest of the house party but then I decided to and that got away from me, and then the concert got away from me, and then the angst got away from me... I promise that's as far as I'm going into the Joffrey stuff, tbh. This is supposed to be light hearted but I felt like the context was necessary (and also I can't help myself apparently).


	5. Chapter 5

The next day she wakes up with her eyes sore and her throat raw.

She lays in bed for a while before getting up and going to take a shower.

She _could_ make it to her math class at noon, she thinks, looking at her phone when she gets back to her room, but she isn't going to go. She feels strange, like something in her has cracked open and she feels raw and exposed.

After she's dressed and feels a bit human again, she calls an Uber and takes the twenty minute ride out to her family's estate outside Wintertown.

When she walks in the door, mom is surprised to see her, and Sansa can see the worry start to line her face (the last time Sansa had shown up unexpectedly during the day, she'd done so with a black eye). Sansa gives her mom a smile to relieve her worries and says “I haven't been home in a little, figured I'd come visit.”

Mom hugs her and whisks her into the kitchen and starts fussing over how much Sansa has been eating and if she's eating _balanced_ meals and not just pizza three times a day like Robb. Sansa laughs and lets her mom feed her a sandwich and some lemonade. When she's done, they start talking about her classes and mom doesn't ask why she's not at them today.

She takes a deep breath and says “I told someone about Joffrey yesterday.” Mom pauses in rinsing off the plate and turns around. “It made me realize I never really talk about it. You guys have never really pushed for me to tell.”

“We didn't want to pressure you,” mom says, looking hesitant. “I wasn't sure if that was the right way to go or not, but I was hoping you'd tell me in your own time.”

And Sansa does. She tells her mom _everything_ , even the parts she's the most ashamed of (not that she'd been duped or mislead or even that Joffrey hit her; what she's most ashamed of was the years before she went South, when she belittled the North and her family's history here. She's most ashamed of Joffrey making fun of her dad and Northerners in general and laughing along with him).

Mom listens with patience and when Sansa's done, she comes around and hugs her and Sansa sighs and relaxes into it. She forgot how nice her mom's hugs could be.

“How about,” mom says, releasing her from the hug, “we bake something?”

They used to bake all the time when she lived at home and she nods and she and her mom go through the cabinets and fridge and find the ingredients to make blueberry muffins.

Sansa tells her mom about her classes and Margaery, which leads her to say “I'm trying to set Marg up with this guy” (she does _not_ mention that it's Robb's best friend) “but it's not _working_ ,” she says with a frustrated huff, dumping sugar into the mixing bowl. “I've been trying _so hard_ but they're not going along with the plan.”

Her mom gives a little laugh and preheats the oven. “You always did get so into your projects,” she muses. “Do you remember that time with Bran?”

Sansa laughs because of _course_ she does. Bran isn't _shy_ , necessarily, but he also doesn't like being the center of attention and when he learned he had to give a five minute long speech in front of his whole class, he'd gotten himself so worked up he'd made himself sick. Sansa had sat with him every day for _weeks_ , forcing him to give speeches on different topics to Sansa's various groups of friends. Bran had been annoyed with her, Arya had called her a bully, but it had _worked_. By the time Bran had to present in class, he wasn't scared anymore.

“Maybe you just need to let them get together naturally,” mom says as Sansa stirs the batter and mom coats the blueberries in flour. “Sometimes the more you try to force people to do something, the less they want to do it.”

Sansa contemplates this. Maybe mom's right. Maybe she's been trying too hard to get Marg and Jon together. Maybe letting it happen naturally is the way to go. Isn't that what all the romance stories say? People who are destined to be together will happen no matter what? (She ignores the fact that she doesn't quite believe in love stories anymore.)

And maybe, she thinks, she threw herself so hard into this project to distract her from dealing with things she didn't want to think about.

She makes the decision, as her mom adds the flour-covered blueberries to the batter, that she's going to let this project go. There's an immediate, palpable weight lifted off her chest that she hadn't realized was even there. Had she really been putting so much pressure on herself for this project? The lightness she feels nearly takes her breath away.

* * *

When Arya, Bran, and Rickon get home from school, they swarm the kitchen, following the baked goods smell ( _ugh,_ Rickon groans, _fruit?_ ).

She decides to stay for dinner and when dad comes home from the office, she watches his face light up when he sees her.

Mom had texted Robb to join, but he isn't able to but promised to come next weekend. Sansa also agrees to come next weekend.

* * *

When she gets back to campus, it's around eight and she stops off at Robb's apartment.

Theon answers the door and when he sees the tupperware in her hands, he grins and invites her inside.

“Robb's out,” he says, eyeing up the food, “I can take that for you.”

Sansa frowns at him. “You'll eat it all,” she points out and Theon doesn't deny it. “This is for _all of you_ ,” she emphasizes and waves the containers in the air. Three of them have leftover dinner and a fourth has muffins. “Mom is convinced Robb is going to wither away and die of malnutrition here, so he needs to at least eat some of this.”

She puts the dinner in the fridge and the muffins on the counter, and then before she goes, she pulls out her phone and adds Robb, Jon, and Theon to a group chat.

_Mom sent leftovers home for ALL OF YOU. Theon is the only one here right now so if you don't find food when you get home, you've been betrayed_

She hears Theon's phone ping and when he reads the text he gasps in outrage and starts typing furiously.

_she's a liar she brought nothing home definitely not roast beef and what I think are some sort of muffins_

Sansa snorts out a laugh and Theon shoots her a grin and she gives him a quick hug before she leaves.

When she gets back to her dorm she has a string of texts that starts with Jon asking what kind of muffins and devolves from there into the three of them arguing over ownership law, fridge real estate, past food crimes, and, eventually, who _deserves_ it the most.

“It's been ten minutes,” she grumbles at her phone as it continues to blow up with texts, mostly from Robb and Theon with the occasional comment from Jon (who seems very focused on a pad thai theft from a year ago that neither Robb nor Theon appear to have ever admitted to).

She almost ignores it when her phone pings again, but it's a text from Jon, separate from the group chat.

_Thank you. Looking forward to whatever you brought, it'll be nice to have real food for once_

She smiles at her phone and almost texts the group to tell them about this, because Jon is the only one who even _thought_ to thank her, but she doesn't. She doesn't need Robb whining that she and Jon talk without him.

_Starting that book tonight_ , she texts back. _I know, I lead an exciting life, reading on a Friday night_

_I'm working, so I'm not that exciting either_

She remembers learning from Robb (and writing in the Snow-tebook) that he had a part time job as a security guard at a local biotech lab on nights and weekends to make extra cash.

_You're guarding important scientific discoveries_ , _that's exciting_

A few minutes go by before he responds (meanwhile, Robb and Theon continue to argue in the group chat, which she ignores).

_I mostly just sit around and watch a bunch of monitors and every once in a while walk around and check to make sure everything's locked. Not that exciting._

She ends up getting no reading done because she and Jon keep talking and he tells her about the guys he works with and she tells him about Rickon's distaste for anything with fruit or vegetables in it and they both agree that her starting a group chat with Robb and Theon was a mistake of Valyrian Doom proportions.

* * *

Somehow, they convince her to go on a hike.

Well, Jon and Robb were already going, planning to walk a trail in the Wolfswood north of Wintertown before the weather turned too cold. What had started off as them telling her and Marg about their planned trip over lunch had turned into Robb commenting on Sansa's lack of athletic ability had turned into Sansa furiously denying it had turned into her somehow coming along on the hike. Looking back, she's not quite able to pinpoint where it went wrong, but now she's stuck. She doesn't _want_ to go, but she refuses to back down.

“You should come, too,” Robb says with a grin in Margaery's direction.

“Hmmm,” she says, pretending to contemplate, “no.”

“You're gonna let Sans go into the woods with two guys _by herself_?” Robb asks, sounding horrified. “We could be _serial killers_.”

Jon snorts and Sansa rolls her eyes as Robb and Margaery continue to argue (Robb, somehow, wins and Sansa's not quite sure how that happens, either).

* * *

“We changed our plans,” Robb says as he shoulders his backpack. “We were _supposed_ to do the Ironwood Trail, but we're gonna take one of the easier ones for you guys.”

“How noble,” Margaery drawls. “How have you dealt with this for _nineteen years_?” she asks Sansa, who just shrugs.

“You learn to tune him out.”

Jon nods in agreement and Robb lets out a betrayed gasp.

“Come on, we should get going,” Jon laughs, pushing at Robb's shoulder and directing him towards the trailhead.

“Here we go,” Marg mutters to Sansa, and they both take a deep breath and start off.

“Where's Theon?” Sansa asks, and gets a laugh from the boys in return.

“Please,” Robb says, “you can't get Theon up before noon on a weekend for _anything,_ let alone hiking.”

“He sounds smart,” Marg shoots back.

The air is brisk but not overly cold and it's actually refreshing, Sansa thinks. Despite her protests the other day at lunch, she isn't really one for sports or physical activity, but she finds this nice and relaxing and she likes the scenery. She probably would hate whatever the Ironwood Trail is, but this one slopes up gently and winds its way up one of the smaller mountains and it's easy and the trees are beautiful.

But, just to be a brat, she whines that she could be at home, wrapped in a blanket and reading with a nice cup of tea instead of being out in _nature_. This gets her and Jon on the topic of the book he loaned her and she hears Robb let out a groan.

“ _Nerds,_ ” he says and Margaery slaps him on the arm and tells him not to be mean.

“I'm almost done it,” she tells Jon as they fall slightly back, Robb and Margaery up ahead arguing.

“What's your favorite theory?” he asks with a smile.

“Volcano, obviously,” she says with a roll of her eyes. A year ago, two, she would've loved one of the other theories about the Doom, of blood magic and dire consequences, but now she goes with the prevailing theory that most scholars agree on.

“Boring,” Jon says with a grin.

“Oh? What's yours?”

“Dragons,” he nods like she should know this.

“Oh come _on_ ,” she gasps. “Dragons aren't _real_.”  
  


“They absolutely are!” he argues. “They've literally dug up bones. There's an entire skeleton at the museum in Old Town.”

“Ok, yes, there were giant winged lizards, but there's no _proof_ they were able to propel themselves in flight, let alone _breathe fire_ ,” she finds herself getting heated. She had no idea she had such strong opinions on dragons.

“How does a volcano explain the burn patterns on the walls around the city?” Jon seems just as heated and her heart rate picks up. She does love a good debate, but there really _isn't_ an explanation for the burn patterns, even experts are stumped, so she goes the childish route instead.

“Next you'll tell me you believe in snarks and grumpkins,” she accuses. “Unicorns on Skagos? Ice spiders?”

“Very funny,” he grumbles.

“Well, I already know you believe in wargs,” she teases and he curses under his breath.

“I'm gonna kill Val for bringing that up.”

“Who knew Jon Snow believed in fairy tales,” she smiles at him and he shoots her a glare.

(Oh, she _enjoys_ teasing him.)

* * *

When they get to the top, they stop for a break and take the lunches Sansa prepared for them out of their backpacks. She'd made them each a sandwich with a bag of chips and a thermos full of hot chocolate (black coffee for Jon. She'd been horrified when he requested it and said he didn't like hot chocolate. How _dare_ he).

They eat and drink in silence, looking out at the view of the Wolfswood, which seems to go on forever. It's beautiful and Sansa realizes that she never would have appreciated it before she went South. She absolutely does now.

And she appreciates the people she's with.

Robb, her brother who she had always loved, but had never necessarily been _friends_ with, who had welcomed her into his life with open arms with no judgment.

And then there's Margaery and Jon, two people who seem to have wormed their way into her heart when she didn't think that was possible anymore.

It's strange, she thinks. If she'd never come up with her plan, she would never have been friends with them. She would have written Margaery off as flighty and vapid and Jon as quiet and boring. She would never have gotten to know the real them.

Her plan may not have worked out the way that she wanted, but she thinks she can still consider it a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I think we're done talking about Joffrey from here on out. Now any angst that happens will be purely between Sansa and Jon, I promise


	6. Chapter 6

After the hike, they head back to town and meet Theon at a bar.

Sansa is exhausted from the hike, but pleasantly so. Her feet hurt a little and she knows her legs will be sore tomorrow, but here in the warm bar, sat in a booth squashed between Jon and Theon, she feels content and sleepy.

She mostly just listens as the other four talk, a smile lingering on her lips as she rests her chin in her hand, propped up on the table, and she idly sips at the beer they'd given her (Theon had ordered a round for the table without really consulting anyone and Sansa was too tired to argue that she doesn't really _like_ beer).

“I can get you something else,” Jon says, leaning forward and dropping his voice so the other three can't hear. She lifts her head up from her hand and looks at him and he nods towards her beer that she's barely touched.

“I don't want to waste it,” she frowns at the glass in front of her and Jon snorts, takes it from her, and pours it into what's left of his own.

“What do you want?” he asks, that problem solved.

She sighs and says “I dunno. I kinda want something warm.”

He nods and slips out of the booth and heads up to the bar before she can protest and he comes back with a steaming mug of something. She doesn't ask what it is and takes a tentative sip. She can taste lemon, honey, tea, and something _definitely_ alcoholic.

“What is that?” she asks, clearing her throat a little from the burn and he laughs.

“Whiskey.”

She nods and takes another sip and finds she really likes it.

“Thank you,” she says and gives him a smile. She leans back in her seat (Jon is kind enough to shift himself so that she can lean against him instead of the hard wood of the booth) and thinks that she definitely could fall asleep right here and she's fighting the urge to close her eyes.

Eventually they notice her exhaustion and when she looks around she sees Marg isn't that far off from sleep either, so they agree to call it an early night. She and Marg are dropped off at their dorms and Sansa pulls off her hiking boots and puts on her comfiest flannel pajamas and groans in relief and crawls into bed, snuggling into her sheets that she kind of wishes smelled like pine.

* * *

She returns the Valyria book to Jon and stands in front of his bookcase, deciding what to read next. Jon's sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard with textbooks and papers spread out around him. It's nearing the end of the semester and as a senior, he's got a lot more work than she does.

“What should I read?” she asks, unable to decide. Jon makes a noncommittal noise and when she looks over at him, he's frowning down at a textbook. She knows he's a little stressed, him and Robb have been more on edge the past week or so with finals coming up. “Jon,” she says and he hums again but doesn't look up. She frowns and walks over to him and pulls the textbook out of his hands. “Jon,” she whines, “ _pay attention to me_.”

That gets a laugh, like she hoped, and he leans back and rubs at his eyes. “Sorry, what were you saying?” he asks.

“You need a break,” she says, tugging at his arm to get him to stand up. He does and groans like an old man, hand going to his back and she rolls her eyes at his drama. “Help me pick out what to read next.”

“Weren't you here to bother Robb?” he asks with a grin and lets her drag him over to the bookcase.

“I already did that, I got bored,” she tells him. “Now, what should I read?”

He contemplates his bookshelf and reaches over and pulls out a paperback that's thinner than the Valyria book.

“A History of Skagos,” she reads off the cover.

“Since you were so judgmental of their unicorns,” he says, trying to look serious and she huffs.

“Unicorns aren't _real_.”

“That book would beg to differ,” he says solemnly.

“Fine,” she says and puts the book in her purse. “I'll read it, and then I'll come tell you all the ways it was wrong and also you're wrong.”

He laughs at that and then hustles her out of his room so he can finish his paper.

* * *

“Ok, so here's how you're wrong,” she starts as she sits down at the table in the dining hall. Jon looks up at her, mid-bite, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh boy,” Robb mutters. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Jon says around a mouthful of food.

Sansa slaps the Skagos book onto the table and Robb rolls his eyes with a groan. “Why'd you have to turn her into a history nerd? She was much more tolerable before,” Robb sighs. “Now she has _another_ thing she gets to be right about.”

She shushes her brother, who apparently takes this as his cue to leave.

“Ok, how am I wrong,” Jon gives her an amused grin and leans back in his chair.

“I don't even know where to begin,” she says, picking up the book and flipping through. She pulls out a mini notebook and opens that as well.

“You took notes?” Jon laughs, pulling the mini notebook from her hands.

“Of course, I like to be prepared before I tell someone how wrong they are,” she tries to grab the notebook back but Jon keeps it out of her reach and then puts it in the pocket of his hoodie. “That's not going to stop me,” she scowls. “I have my talking points memorized.

“You know, there's a good documentary about it,” he picks up his fork and shoves more food into his mouth. “It's on Netflix.” She resists the urge to tell him not to talk with his mouth full.

“I thought you didn't watch TV.”

“I like a good documentary,” he explains and she sighs. Of _course_ he does. “Do you wanna come over and watch it sometime?”

He seems hesitant all the sudden and she wonders if he really thinks she hates the topic or something. She was having fun giving him a hard time, but she does actually find it all fascinating.

“Yeah,” she says and he sets his fork down and rubs a hand across his beard.

“Ok, well, Robb and Theon aren't gonna be home tonight, if you wanna come over, we could watch it?” He's barely looking at her and she's confused by his sudden shift in demeanor.

“I can't tonight,” she says slowly, a little off kilter with the change in the air. “I know it sounds dumb, but I've been putting off laundry for weeks and I thought I could make it until I went home next, but if I don't do it tonight, I won't have anything to wear tomorrow.” She doesn't specify that she won't have _underwear_ tomorrow. Jon doesn't need to know that.

“Oh,” is all he says and he picks up his fork again and moves some food around on his plate.

He must really want to watch that documentary.

“I think Alys is going to be out on a date, if you wanted to come watch it in my dorm? I know hanging at the dorms probably isn't _cool_ for a senior, but...” she trails off and shrugs and he's looking up at her again with what looks like hope. He must _really_ want to watch this documentary.

“Yeah ok,” he clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “What time?”

“Seven?” she says. That will give her enough time to get back from class, take a shower, and start her laundry.

Jon nods and fidgets again and she thinks this documentary must be really good if he's this excited to watch it again.

* * *

Jon texts her at seven and she runs down and lets him into the building. He takes one look at her and barks out a laugh and she scowls.

“I told you I ran out of clothes,” she feels herself flush. She's in an old pair of pajamas with cartoon unicorns all over it (she hopes he can't tell that she's not wearing a bra, all of them are in the wash and she hopes this top is big enough that he won't notice). “I thought these would be fitting, anyway,” she points at a unicorn.

They get into the elevator and he grins and takes the hem of her pajama top between his thumb and forefinger and gives it a tug. “No, it's cute,” he says and she suddenly doesn't know what to say.

She mutters a “thanks” and finds she can't look away from him. He's standing closer to her than he needs to, hand still lightly gripping her pajama top, and she _can't look away._ Why can't she look away?

The elevator dings and he lets go of her and sighs and runs a hand through his hair. When the door opens, she practically runs out and tries to compose herself by the time she gets to her room. She cannot figure out why she feels so off balance.

She lets him in and watches him look around the room. Alys's side of the dorm is covered in posters and pictures, but Sansa's is fairly sparse. At the beginning of the year, she hadn't been interested in decorating, and she never really got around to it. He looks at some of the photos framed on her desk and she wonders if he knows who they are, since he's known Robb for so long. He probably does. She suddenly wonders if he's ever _met_ her family. The idea feels strange to her, that Jon has maybe had whole interactions with her family without her being there.

He's got a messenger bag and he takes it off and puts it on her bed and tells her he brought her more books and she nods. He's about to open the bag when he notices the stuffed dog sitting near her pillow.

“That's Lady,” she says, feeling herself blush again. “Dad gave her to me when I was little. I always wanted a dog of my own, but since we already had Grey Wind, we weren't allowed to get another.”

“Robb's told me about Grey Wind,” Jon says. “We've talked about getting a dog once we're out of university housing.”

“Oh, you should!” she says excitedly, bouncing a little on her toes. “A big one!”

“Well, when we get to that point, you can help us look.”

She can't help her excitement and she claps her hands together. “Can we start looking now?”

Jon laughs. “We still have a whole other semester to go,” he reminds her.

“So?” she pouts.

“So,” he says like he's explaining something to a child, “if we find a dog now, we wouldn't be able to adopt it because we can't have a dog in our apartment.”

“You could keep it at my parents!” she says, like this is the perfect solution and he laughs again.

“Absolutely not, it would just become _your_ dog, then.”

He sees right through her.

She gives him another pout and adds the lip tremble that she's found works on him and he holds up a warning finger. “Do not.”

She pouts harder and something shifts in his expression and he's giving her such an intense look and...

Her phone alarm goes off.

“Oh,” she says, turning to shut it off. “I've gotta go put my laundry in the dryer.”

“Ok, yeah,” he says and rubs a hand over his face. “Ok.”

“I'll be right back.” She feels weird just leaving him in her room so she waves over at her desk and the pile of things on it. “My laptop's over there, you can queue up the show and we can start when I get back.”

She leaves him and practically runs down to the laundry in the basement. It's a Wednesday night, so not many people are doing their laundry, but of course she runs into Harry Hardying.

She moves her clothes over to the dryer while Harry flirts with her and she barely responds. She's not interested in Harry. She might have been, once. He's exactly the kind of guy she used to dream about. Tall, blonde, perfect teeth and an equally perfect bank account. All she can see now is a creep who doesn't realize (or maybe just doesn't care) when a girl isn't interested.

“Good talk,” she says when she shuts the dryer door and hits start. “Bye.”

She wants to run back upstairs but for some reason, she doesn't want Jon to see her out of breath and sweating, so she forces herself to walk at a normal pace. It feels like it takes forever.

When she opens the door to her room, Jon has not gotten the laptop set up.

No, Jon is standing by her desk, reading a very familiar notebook.

“Don't read that!” she squeals, snatching it away from him.

Jon continues staring down at his empty hands where the notebook had been seconds before.

“Had my name on it,” he murmurs and she feels herself flush. She'd decorated the cover of the notebook with _hearts_ , what must he have thought?

“I can explain,” she says quickly, shoving the notebook under the covers of her bed.

“No,” he interrupts, still not looking at her. “I kinda got it. You want me to date Margaery?”

She finds she can't say anything and she's not sure why her voice isn't working. He seems so _sad._ He must be upset because she invaded his privacy? Because she was meddling in his life? She feels something in her stomach twist.

“Robb mentioned you needed a girlfriend...” she starts to explain and her voice is shaky and she can't figure out why she's so anxious.

“So you were only spending time with me to get me and Margaery together?” he asks, crease forming between his brows.

“I...”

“And my personality is on the con list,” his voice is low and by now he's shoved his hands into his pockets and he still won't look at her. “But hey, at least I work out, right?”

“No... I... I didn't know you then,” she tries, her voice raising an octave. “I was just trying to help!”

At this his head snaps up and he looks directly at her for the first time. He stares at her for just slightly too long and her heart is beating wildly in her chest. He looks _angry_.

“Yeah, ok, fine. If you wanna help, then go ahead,” he's grabbing his messenger bag now and slinging it over his head. “Set up a date with Margaery, I don't care what it is.”

With that, he leaves her dorm and all she can do is stand in the middle of her room and try not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else is having a rough day and just wants to write some nonsense? just me?
> 
> I'm thinking like 2-ish more parts for this? We'll see if I stick to that.


	7. Chapter 7

She spends the rest of the night in a panic.

Jon hasn't responded to any of her texts and she'd even tried to call him twice ( _Jon, please, can you just let me explain?_ ).

The next day when she walks into History of Old Valyria, Marg is already there and waves her over.

Sansa sits, feeling nauseous. The professor isn't here yet, so they can still talk, no need to put this off until the end of class.

“So,” Sansa clears her throat and turns to Marg. “How would you feel about going on a date with Jon?”

Marg laughs. Like really, genuinely laughs. When she sees Sansa isn't laughing, Marg gives her a confused look and says “why would I want to go on a date with your boyfriend?”

Sansa opens her mouth to say something but finds that nothing comes out and luckily the professor walks in and so she just turns to the front and keeps her eyes glued there (she ignores the way Margaery stares at her).

* * *

She practically _runs_ out of the room when class is over, ignoring Marg calling after her.

Boyfriend.

_Boyfriend_.

She isn't dating Jon! She isn't dating anyone!

That was the whole point. Coming to Winterfell U, starting over, _no boys_.

For as long as she can remember, she's been obsessed with boys. She remembers sighing over Gawen Glover and Waymar Royce (she had refused to have a boyfriend in high school, though. She didn't want a _Northern_ boyfriend). And then the Joffrey debacle.

Why would Jon even _want_ to date her? She's a mess.

Jon doesn't want to date her. Marg is wrong.

They aren't dating.

* * *

Are they _dating_?

The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that she and Jon spend more time together than even she and Margaery do. Even if they aren't always alone when they hang out, she sees him a lot and they text all the time.

She told him about Joffrey when she had barely even been able to tell her own brother. She'd told Jon more about Joffrey than she'd told her parents.

This is insane.

They aren't dating.

She sits in her dorm and squeezes her eyes shut and tries to remember every interaction she and Jon have ever had to try and see what Margaery saw.

Ok, so when they all have lunch together, she and Jon tend to have side conversations, but it's always about something stupid! They aren't talking about serious things. So what if they text late into the night and he always texts her good morning. And sure, they eat dinner together a lot just the two of them because Robb doesn't join them half the time and sometimes Jon even suggests they go to some restaurant off campus. That's not _dating_. They're friends.

Plus, Jon would never want to date Robb's little sister. She's just Robb's bratty little sister and they just happen to like the same music and they both like debating about history and they have the same sense of humor and he's really nice to her.

They're friends. That's what friends are.

Dating implies more, it implies physical attraction.

She's not attracted to Jon.

* * *

_Is_ she attracted to Jon?

She's gone to take a shower and she stands under the hot water for way too long.

Of course he's good looking. She already knows that, she wrote that down in the notebook! Plenty of people are attractive, that doesn't mean she's _attracted_ to them.

Just because his lips are full and soft looking doesn't mean she wants to kiss them. Just because his hair is curly and she wonders if it's as soft as his lips doesn't mean she wants to run her fingers through it or tug on it a little while she's kissing him. Just because he's got nice arms doesn't mean she wants them around her.

And yes, his shoulders are broad and his hands are big and his eyes are intense and his voice is deep and he smells really good.

And even if she _is_ attracted to him, that doesn't mean she wants to date him.

* * *

_Does_ she want to date him?

She's back in her room sitting on her bed with a notebook in front of her, trying to come up with a plan.

She doesn't even know what she's trying to plan, but she needs to plan _something_. She stares at the blank page for what feels like hours and she can't make her brain work.

She finally groans and shuts the notebook and throws it and the pen onto her desk and then throws herself face down into the mattress and screams into her pillow.

This is when Alys chooses to walk in, and Sansa hears her laugh and say “finals?”

“No,” Sansa sits up and turns to face her roommate. “I can't tell if I was dating someone.”

Alys throws her with a look that's half confusion, half amusement, half horror (wait, that's too many halves...)

“I... don't even know what that means,” Alys says, dropping her bag onto her desk chair.

“Neither do I!” Sansa whines and flops back down onto her back. “I've been hanging out with this guy that I thought I was just friends with but then our mutual friend called him my boyfriend and now I can't even figure out if _he_ thinks we were dating or if it's just Marg who thinks that, cause she can be kind of dramatic and...”

“Whoa,” Alys laughs, eyes opening wide. “This is a lot of information all at once. Did you ask Marg why she thought that?”

Sansa bites at her lip. “No,” she admits. “I ran away.” Alys laughs again.

“Ok, I think maybe you should talk to her? Or better yet, talk to this guy?”

“That's the problem, we had a... fight? I don't know, but he won't answer my calls or texts and I don't think he wants anything to do with me anymore.”

Alys frowns at that. “Maybe give him some time to get over whatever this fight was about? If you're really friends, he'll come around.”

* * *

Sansa decides she needs an unbiased opinion.

Margaery already thinks they're dating, clearly. Alys doesn't know Jon. Theon would just make a bunch of crude jokes.

That leaves Robb.

When Robb answers the door, he's in his pajamas with his hair rumpled and that snaps Sansa out of her haze long enough for her to huff out a sigh. “Robb, it's almost two in the afternoon, why are you still sleeping.”

“Cause I can?” Robb shrugs and opens the door to let her in.

“Is Theon here?” she asks and Robb shakes his head no. Good, she needs Robb alone for this (she realizes that she doesn't need to ask if Jon is here, she knows he isn't. She has memorized his class schedule).

Robb goes into the kitchen and asks if she wants something and she accepts a water bottle while he pulls out a Coke.

“Ok, I don't know how to talk about this,” Sansa says hesitantly. “We never really talk about our feelings.” Robb frowns and turns to look at her. She takes a deep breath. “So, it's about Jon...”

Robb groans and holds up his hands. “Nope. I told Jon I never wanted to get involved. I do _not_ need the specifics.”

“ _What_? Involved in _what_? You talked about me? _When?”_

Robb gives her a confused look. “Jon didn't tell you? Figures.” He sighs. “Before he asked you out, he talked to me about it.”

“He asked you for permission to date me?”

“No, he _told me_ he was going to ask you out and said he hoped I'd be cool with it.”

“But he never asked me out,” she tries, swallowing down panic ( _this is real_ ). Robb shoots her another confused look.

“I thought you went to the concert?”

The concert.

That was a _date_.

“That was a date,” she breathes and understanding dawns on Robb's face.

“You... didn't know.” He sighs, “of course you didn't.”

“He didn't call it a date!” she tries to argue and she can feel her voice rising. “And it's not like he's ever tried to kiss me or like, tell me he likes me or something!”

( _That's not really true,_ her mind argues. _What about after the concert, that forehead kiss did not feel like Robb's forehead kisses. What about in the elevator? What about before your laundry alarm went off?_ )

“He mentioned you told him about Joffrey,” Robb says, hesitant, like he shouldn't be talking about it. “He thought you wanted to take it slow. He said he was keeping it to like, casual dates and waiting for you to be ready.”

She puts her face in her hands and leans over onto the kitchen counter.

This is real.

Jon thought they were dating.

Margaery thought they were dating.

Robb thought they were dating.

_Theon_ probably thought they were dating.

_Everyone_ seemed to know what was going on except her.

“I'm so stupid,” she whispers into the countertop. She hears Robb walk around to her side of the counter and he pulls her up and into a hug.

“You aren't stupid. You went through some shit, it's not surprising you weren't ready for another relationship.”

“Jon hates me,” she says into Robb's shoulder and he laughs.

“Doubtful.”

“No, you don't understand,” she argues and pulls away from him. “He found my notebook.”

She and Robb end up on the couch in the living room as she tells him about her plan and the notebook and Jon finding it. She watches Robb process it all in a series of facial expressions that would be comical if she weren't so upset.

“You wanted him to date _Margaery?”_ Robb asks, looking a little sick at the thought. “They'd be terrible together.”

“Well apparently I don't know anything,” she mutters and curls herself into a ball on the couch as Robb puts his hand on her shoulder.

They sit in silence for a while.

“I don't know what to do,” she admits.

Robb sighs. “Let him down gently? I'm sure he's hurt right now, but if you explain it to him, he'll be fine. He's a good guy, he'll understand.”

She nods and feels _terrible_ because Jon _is_ a good guy. He's so nice and sweet to her and the last thing she wants to do is hurt him.

* * *

Sansa is up all night thinking about Jon.

She thinks about his smile, the one that crinkles up his eyes and lights up his face. She thinks about how much he makes her laugh. She thinks about the way he pays attention to her, to what she's feeling and what she wants and what she thinks. She thinks about the way he looked the other week on the trail with his cheeks flushed and his hair pushed down under the beanie he'd been wearing. She thinks about looking for a dog with him in the summer when he and Robb move.

Jon had been, without a doubt, a perfect boyfriend.

She hadn't been _looking_ for a boyfriend. Back in September, she'd written them off entirely.

Gods, has it only been a little over three months? It feels like she's known Jon all her life.

He probably won't even be that upset if she tells him she's not interested. It's only been three months and she's _clearly_ an idiot.

He'll move on and find some other girl to date.

The idea twists something ugly in her stomach, and she thinks she has her answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok hopefully this is explains a little of what's been going on from not-Sansa's POV
> 
> Just wanna say thanks to all who are reading this. This is super fun to write!


	8. Chapter 8

Margaery laughs long and loud when Sansa explains it all to her.

(Well, first, when Sansa explains Joffrey, Margaery's whole demeanor changes and she mutters about getting a flight down to King's Landing and something about the poisonous plants her grandmother grows in their greenhouse.)

“Oh _honey_ ,” she finally says, wiping tears of laughter away from her eyes after Sansa tells her about the plan and the notebook.

“Tell me how to fix it!” Sansa pleads, burying her face in her hands and continuing to pace Marg's dorm room. “He won't answer my calls or texts, he won't come to the dining hall. Robb tried to get him to talk to me but apparently that didn't go over well. Short of ambushing him outside one of his classes or showing up at their apartment and refusing to leave, I don't know how to make him talk to me.”  
  
“I think that second one might have merit,” Marg twists her mouth in a thoughtful expression. “I mean, if Jon comes home one day and finds you waiting naked in his room, I'm sure he'll be real quick to forgive you.”

Sansa feels herself blush a deep, ugly red and she throws Marg a dirty look.

“I am _not_ doing that.”

No. Jon deserves more than her trying to manipulate him into forgiving her (honestly, he deserves more than _her_ , but she's always been selfish and now that she's realized what she wants, she isn't going to give him up that easy).

* * *

She decides to ambush him.

She waits outside his Human Behaviors class, anxious energy swirling through her. She isn't sure how he's going to react. What if he runs? She can't imagine he would _physically_ run from her...

She just needs to talk to him. Just talk and she can explain it all and everything will be fine.

Except... except what if he really hates her now? What if she's hurt him too much to recover ( _why_ did she have to write _'personality?'_ under the cons list).

The door to the classroom opens and students start to trickle out and she feels like she's going to throw up.

Finally he comes out and he's deep in conversation with a girl Sansa's never seen before (she's got dyed green hair that's blonde at the roots and she looks so effortlessly cool, it's infuriating).

She suddenly feels dizzy with panic and she ducks behind a pillar before Jon can notice her.

Who is that? Sansa's never seen her before and she doesn't remember Jon ever mentioning a girl from one of his classes. Sometimes he talks about some of his friends from class, but he never told her one was a _girl_ (yes, she realizes she's overreacting but she doesn't care right now).

She peeks back around the pillar and sees them still walking together and the girl is gesturing while saying something and then Jon _laughs_.

* * *

She follows them to the library.

Is she crazy? Maybe. Is she overthinking this? Absolutely.

She can't help herself, though.

They sit at one of the tables and Sansa hides in one of the stacks nearby, pulling a book off a shelf and opening it to a random page.

Jon and the girl are joined by a few others and it looks like maybe it's a study group (she remembers Jon telling her about a study group once but he had _not_ mentioned that a beautiful girl was part of the group).

The girl leans over Jon to point to something in one of the other's books and Sansa feels unfiltered jealousy rage through her, but she tries to push it down. What right does she have to jealousy, really? They aren't dating. She'd made sure of that.

Still, though, Sansa hates how close this girl is to Jon, so she takes out her phone and sends him a text.

_Please talk to me_

She watches his phone light up and he lifts it up, reads the text, frowns, and puts the phone back down.

Well.

_I know you're reading these_

He watches his phone go off and frowns deeper. He seems to fight with himself over whether he's going to look at her message or not, but eventually he does. He scowls at the phone and puts it down harder than necessary. The girl next to him looks concerned and he waves her off.

“Are you taking Biology with Professor Umber?” a voice asks from right next to her and it makes Sansa jump.

She looks over and finds a boy standing next to her.

“What?”

The boy points to the book in her hands and she looks down and sees that she is, indeed, holding a biology book.   
  


“Oh, no,” she looks between the boy, the book, and Jon, “Oh look, I'm in the wrong section.”

She puts the book back on the shelf and pushes past the boy, deeper into the stacks and she takes the long way out of the library so that Jon won't see her.

* * *

She's not _stalking_ him.

She's trying to find the best time to talk to him and she just so happens to know his entire schedule by heart and there just doesn't seem to be a good time to approach him (she ignores the fact that there have been plenty of times and she's chickened out every single one).

She hasn't texted him how she feels, that seems wrong. A text is not the way to confess your feelings for someone and she thinks it would come out sounding fake anyway. And she won't tell him through Robb, either, that's _worse_. She's waiting to tell him in person.

So she ends up watching him, hiding behind plants and bookcases and pillars, but she's not _stalking_ him. That would be crazy.

But every time she sees him alone, she thinks about walking up to him. She thinks about the anger on his face in her dorm after he'd found the notebook. She thinks about the hurt. And then her mind runs away with itself and she imagines all the possibilities (of all the ways he'll turn her down and tell her he hates her) and she loses her nerve.

* * *

She's at the library again and he's in his study group (they must be meeting up more than usual because it's the end of the semester). The girl is there next to him and Sansa doesn't like how she offered Jon some of her snack (pretzels, Jon hadn't really paid attention, just reached into the bag and pulled out a handful and shoved it into his mouth).

She needs to leave, she thinks. This is getting ridiculous and she's not going to confront him in front of a group of people, so she _really_ needs to leave.

As she moves to go, she doesn't notice one of the plastic step stools that are littered around the place so students can reach the higher shelves. She doesn't fall, but she kicks it and she stumbles a little and it makes a loud noise and a bunch of students look up, including Jon, and he _absolutely_ sees her.

They lock eyes for a brief moment and she runs (well, not _runs_ , it's still a library after all, and there are _rules_ ).

  
  


He manages to catch up with her before she reaches the stairs to the lower level and he pulls her off to the side, into one of the stacks so they won't have an audience.

  
  


“Are you following me?” he sighs and he doesn't sound angry with her, more like he's tired.

  
  


“No.” Even to her ears it sounds like a lie and Jon gives her a look that says he does not believe her.

  
  


They stand in silence for a few seconds (she knows he's waiting for her to explain or admit to following him, but her throat has closed up and she can't speak).

  
  


This is the first time she's seen him up close since that night and her brain is completely shutting down. How could she have been so unaware of her attraction to him? All those times she'd been tongue-tied around him, all the times he'd made her nervous. He'd been _right there_ and she hadn't seen it. And now he's _right here_ but he's not, really. He's not hers anymore, not like he used to be, not like she hadn't realized he'd been.

  
  


Maybe he's that other girl's now.

  
  


“Who's the girl?”

  
  


Jon stares at her and she realizes how stupid and petty she sounds.

  
  


“What girl?” he asks and he sounds, if possible, even more exhausted than he did before.

  
  


“The one with the green hair.” Sansa suddenly can't look at his face anymore, so instead she looks down at her hands and she can't stop picking at her cuticles.

  
  


“Wyl?”

  
  


Jon _had_ mentioned his friend Wyl. “I thought Wyl was a guy.”

  
  


“Wylla,” Jon clarifies. “Also, why does it matter?” She still can't look at him and she shrugs and she can _feel_ his sigh deep in her bones. “Wyl is gay, first of all, and second, it doesn't matter because I wouldn't be into her anyway. And she _definitely_ wouldn't be into me even if she liked guys.”

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


“I don't have time for this,” he mutters and she feels a lump forming in her throat and tears stinging at her eyes. “I've got finals this week and I just... I don't have time for this.”

  
  


“I'm sorry,” she manages to whisper and she's embarrassed at how her voice wavers.

  
  


“I know, and I know you want to talk, I've gotten your texts, but I can't deal with it right now, ok?” He shifts uncomfortably and drops his voice even lower. “The whole time I just... I thought you felt the same way, that we were just taking it slow. I feel like an idiot and to be honest, seeing you makes it worse. Can you just give me some time? Maybe after finals, in the new semester or something, we can talk.”

  
  


She looks up at him finally and she can see the exhaustion in his face, the dark circles under his eyes.

  
  


She wants to tell him that he doesn't have to be embarrassed, that _she_ was the one who'd read the entire thing wrong. That she wants what he wants (she thinks, unless he doesn't want her anymore?).

  
  


“No, you're wrong...” the second the words leave her, she realizes it's the wrong thing to say because his mouth sets in a hard line.

  
  


“Go home,” he says and holds up a hand to stop her from talking. He doesn't wait for her to say anything, he just turns around and leaves her standing there, trying not to cry, for a second time (and for a second time, it's all her fault).

  
  


* * *

  
  


_No, you're wrong._

  
  


The words haunt her.

  
  


She knows she can be a know it all, she knows she can be bossy and selfish and self centered.

  
  


She likes being right. She hates admitting that she's wrong.

  
  


But it turns out, she's wrong about _everything_.

  
  


She was wrong about Joffrey and going South. She was wrong to ignore her problems and use others to try and escape them. She was wrong to try and force Jon into a relationship he didn't want and she was wrong to think she knew what was best for him.

  
  


She is so very wrong and a complete coward on top of it.

* * *

She shows up at his apartment when she knows he won't be there.

Theon answers the door and she isn't a fan of the pitying look he gives her. She wonders how much Robb has told him (she's very sure Jon wouldn't have talked about it).

“Hey, I just came to drop something off,” she pushes her way past him and into the apartment. As she does, Theon grabs the notebook she's holding out of her hands and reads the cover that she's decorated with puffy paint and glitter.

“ _All The Things Sansa Stark Was Wrong About,_ ” he reads and looks up at her with a quirked eyebrow. She feels herself turning red and snatches the notebook back.

“Shut up,” she grumbles and heads towards Jon's room. The door's open and she goes in and leaves the notebook on his bed, centered at his pillows.

Then she leaves and heads for the door and as she passes by Theon again, he says “he'll come around.”

She hopes so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, I promise that next chapter, they'll *actually* talk (and we'll actually find out how Jon feels about all of this instead of what Sansa thinks he feels...)


	9. Chapter 9

_You aren't stupid_

The text comes in late at night while she's tossing and turning in bed.

She'd left the notebook for Jon while he was at his lone night class and she knows he got out an hour ago and she's been in agony ever since. What if he refused to read it? What if he read it but it didn't matter? What if he burned it in some blood magic ritual and now she's going to have eternal bad luck?

When the text comes in, she nearly jumps out of bed to reach for her phone and she stares down at the words.

_You aren't stupid_

She remembers the last thing she'd written in the notebook, a hasty post script she'd added that wasn't part of her list of all the things she'd been wrong about. _“Sorry I was stupid”_

Her fingers hover over her phone, unsure how to respond. She doesn't want to argue with him, that's the exact opposite of what she wants. She doesn't want to tell him that he's _wrong._ She thinks maybe she should keep it light?

_You sure about that?_

He calls her.

“Wasn't sure you'd be up,” his voice comes over the line and she can tell he's keeping it down so he doesn't disturb Robb or Theon (or, since they're both likely still awake, Jon just doesn't want them to hear).

“Yeah,” she's fully out of bed now, nervous energy coursing through her. Alys, on her own phone laying in bed, quirks an eyebrow at her.

“Thought I told you to wait until after finals.”

He says it with a slight laugh and there's a weight lifted off her chest immediately.

“You didn't have to read it right away,” she shoots back. She's walking a line here, she thinks. A very fine line between Jon finding her bossiness funny and her bulldozing her way back into his life. She hopes she read his tone right.

“Gods, you're infuriating,” he's trying to sound serious, but she thinks he's still kind of laughing and she's trying not to laugh, too (a desperate, hopeful laugh, not because he said something funny but because preemptive relief is bubbling up inside her and she can barely keep it contained).

“I feel like you knew this about me,” she whispers, keeping her voice low and restrained so she doesn't burst into hysterical laughter. (Or cry? She can't honestly tell at this point.)

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, I did. I wasn't kidding about finals, I don't really have time and I feel like this isn't something we should do on the phone?” She finds herself nodding until she realizes he can't see her and she hums in agreement. “My last final's Thursday at ten. I should be done by noon.”  
  


“I'll be free,” she cuts in quickly and she doesn't even care if she sounds overeager.  
  


“You wanna come here at two? Theon's last one is Wednesday and he's headed home that night and Robb has one on Thursday at two so he should be gone by then.”

“Yes.”

Three days. She can wait three days.

She thinks.

“Jon, is this... this is going to go well, right? You're going to forgive me?”

He truly laughs, then.

“Gods, you really can't wait, can you? We'll talk about it on Thursday. You'll find out then.”

She knows, by the tone of his voice (and by the fact that he called her at all) that it's going to go well, that he's forgiven her, but she needs to _hear_ him say it. She lets out a whine and Jon laughs again.

“Thursday,” he repeats.

“Thursday,” she agrees, putting just a tinge of pout in her voice because she knows it will make him laugh (and it does, it _does_ , she's never heard a better sound in her life).

When he hangs up she immediately texts Robb.

_Jon forgives me, right? He wouldn't say it._

She paces her dorm and ignores Alys's inquiring look until her phone pings.

_Jon says stop meddling and go to bed._

She frowns at her phone until it pings again, from Robb.

_Also please do not flirt through me I hate this_

She puts down her phone and climbs into bed and presses her face into her pillow so that Alys can't see the smile on her face.

* * *

The next three days go by slowly.

She throws herself into her finals, even though her classes are all fairly easy and she's not overly worried (except math, she's terrible at math, but she thinks she'll at least be able to pass it).

She tells Marg over lunch one day and they spend the entire time planning what she's going to wear. Marg decides to focus on what kind of lingerie she should wear while they're in the middle of the dining hall, and Marg's voice _carries_. Sansa keeps trying to shush her, but she's having none of it.

“We're not going to be _doing_ anything,” Sansa hisses, looking sideways at the table next to them to make sure no one is hearing this conversation.

“Doing what?” she hadn't even noticed Robb walk up behind her and he sits at the table with them, throwing his bag on the last remaining chair.

Of all the times...

She watches Marg's lips curl into a grin and she opens her mouth to speak and Sansa kicks her under the table.

“Ow!” Marg whines, bending down to rub at her shin. “They aren't going to be seeing each other naked tomorrow, apparently.”  
  


Sansa groans and puts her face in her hands and she hears Robb choke on air beside her while Marg laughs.

* * *

She feels like she floats through her Lit final. Luckily the class is easy and she's fairly certain she'll pass, but the idea that in a few short hours she'll be at Jon's apartment, with him, alone... well, she hadn't been _super_ focused on the final.

When she's done, she goes back to her dorm and tries on outfit after outfit, finally settling on a pair of jeans and a black knit sweater her mom had gotten her for Christmas last year. They're just talking in his apartment, she doesn't need to be fancy or anything. And the last thing she wants is to feel uncomfortable, so she figures simple is the best. Same with her hair, same with her makeup (and so what if she puts on her laciest bra on under it, who's to know?)

She's done too early, it's only noon, she still has two hours. What if she's _too_ under dressed? _Too_ casual.

She pulls out her phone and sends a quick text to Robb.

_What's Jon wearing?_

It takes a few minutes before he responds.

_PLEASE do not sext through me for the love of the Seven this is torture_

She snorts out a laugh at Robb's drama.

_I want to make sure I'm not too casual. Please?_

_Jeans I think? Hoodie? The usual?_

She should've known better than to ask Robb for fashion details.

* * *

The next two hours drag and when her phone clock hits _exactly_ two, she's standing outside of Jon's apartment, knocking (she's nothing if not punctual).

Her heart can't decide whether it wants to crawl up her throat, burst out of her chest, or just stop working altogether as the door opens. She isn't exactly sure _why_ she's nervous, she knows, on some level, that Jon has forgiven her. Maybe it's because she isn't sure what that forgiveness means. Does he still want to be her friend? Does he forgive her, but she's still ruined this? Forgiveness doesn't mean its going to go back to the way it was.

But then she doesn't have time to think about it anymore because the door is open and Jon's giving her a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes the way his _real_ smiles do and at first she worries that something is wrong, did she completely misread that phone call?

He steps aside to let her in and his hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck like he does... like he does when he's nervous around her, she realizes.

It's a relief, honestly, that he's nervous about this, too. They can be nervous together.

He offers her something to drink and, with a voice that cracks an embarrassing amount, she accepts a bottle of water. She takes a quick drink out of hers to give her something to do with her hands and he stands in the kitchen, twisting the cap of his on and off.

“I'm sorry,” she starts, deciding to get this out of the way. If they stand here in silence any longer, she might _actually_ die.

He shakes his head and she stops talking.

“I know,” he says and he looks like he wants to be doing _anything_ else but talking. “I read the notebook and I think maybe there's some stuff I should clear up?” She opens her mouth to argue but decides not to. He clears his throat and can't seem to look her in the eye as he talks. “Look, I'm not great at explaining my feelings. And I don't think I'm that great at relationships.”

She watches him twist the cap of his water bottle harder. “Haven't you had three girlfriends?” she tries to laugh to ease his tension and he smiles ruefully down at the floor.

“Two and a half,” he shrugs. “Val doesn't really count. And the others... it's not like we _talked_ a lot. And I never had to tell them how I felt.”

Sansa frowns. “Never?”

He shakes his head. “Ygritte wasn't a _feelings_ person and Dany... it was always more about how she felt. And obviously I'm terrible at asking a girl out, I guess I've never really had to do it before.” Jon glances up at her and when he sees her frown, explains, “Ygritte asked me out. Val and I met at a bar and she invited me home, and Dany asked me out first, too, so...”

“Ok, I get it, you're pretty,” Sansa interrupts and Jon lets out a laugh that she thinks is half nervous anxiety more than anything else. When he meets her eye again, she gives him a smile and that seems to give him the courage to continue.

“What I'm saying is that I'm shit at relationships. Yg and I broke up because we went to different colleges and neither of us wanted to do long distance. Val and I were better as friends. And I could never be the person Dany wanted me to be. I _thought_ I was being clear that I was asking you out, but looking back...”

“To be fair, I had sworn off guys at the beginning of the year,” she tries and Jon shakes his head.

“When I found out about Joffrey, I should've been even _more_ clear,” he's frowning and she wants him to stop. She never wants to see him look so sad and all she wants to do is say something to make him laugh or just... kiss him or _something_ to get that expression of his face, but she knows she needs to let this play out. “I was more direct with _Robb_ than I was with you, that's insane.”

“It's not like I was being straightforward with you, either,” she points out. “I was trying to push you and Marg together.”

“Terrible idea.”

“So _everyone_ has told me. She was the only person on campus I could think of that seemed to fit the type of girl you like,” she shrugs.

“Yeah, I think I saw that list.” He's put his water bottle down on the counter now, and he leans back against it and crosses his arms. “What were they again?”

She tries to think back to the Snow-tebook, to what she had written. “Um, opinionated? Strong willed. Brash...”

“You, you, and you...” he says with a small smile and she scowls at him.

“I am _not._ ”

“Sansa, you are _the_ most opinionated person I've ever met. And when you want something, you don't _stop..._ ” he doesn't have to point out that she had _stalked_ him into getting him to talk to her again.

The idea gives her pause. When she was writing that list, had she really been describing herself?

“Am I like your other girlfriends?” she asks, suddenly curious. She knows she's _nothing_ like Val, but she's never met the other two. She didn't see herself in them except maybe sharing opinions on some issues that they posted about on social media.

“Gods no,” he laughs.

“Oh.”

“No, I'm glad. There's a reason I'm not with them anymore,” he points out.

“And you're not mad at me?”

He sighs. “I'm not mad at you,” he says. “I mean, I was at first, for about an hour. Then I was mostly just... the idea that you thought I was boring or that my personality was terrible...”

“No,” her voice breaks a little. “I didn't know you and I never changed that _stupid_ list when I _did_ get to know you. I pretty much gave up on the whole plan after the concert anyway, I kind of forgot the notebook even existed.”

“After the concert?” he looks confused and she nods.

“I talked to my mom the next day, she let me know that _maybe_ I was being a bit pushy. So I decided to abandon the plan and just be friends with you and Marg.”

“Friends,” he says on an exhale and she watches his face close off and she realizes he's reading this wrong, again.

She tries to figure out why they keep doing this, why they keep misunderstanding each other, because this is never going to work if they keep doing it.

She can maybe guess why Jon doesn't trust his own feelings. He never grew up with siblings or parents; moved about from home to home. And if his past relationships hadn't allowed him to feel like he could express himself (it sounds like both of his _real_ girlfriends had been fairly dismissive of his feelings), she figures he's probably used to keeping everything bottled up.

And she knows that ever since Joffrey, she's been doubting everything she does. She hasn't felt like she could trust her own judgment since that night, but she hasn't wanted to admit that. She hasn't wanted to admit that Joffrey had ruined her confidence so completely.

She can't believe she's let Joffrey continue to effect her life so much. He wasn't _worth it_.

In that moment, she realizes so clearly that she has nothing to worry about. Jon is a good person and he _likes_ her. And she likes _him,_ now she just needs to be clear, herself.

“You never called it a date,” she says and he looks confused. “The concert. You never called it a date.”

“Yeah, like I said, I wasn't clear enough...”

“No,” she interrupts. “We both misunderstood. What I'm trying to say is that you should ask me again.”

He pauses and she watches a multitude of emotions flicker across his face and it seems to settle on hopeful. He takes a deep breath.

“Sansa, will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes.”

“And just to be very, _very_ clear, this is a romantic date.”

“Uh huh.”

“Because I like you.”  
  


“I like you, too”

“In a very not-just-friends way.”

“Good.”

There's a smile working it's way onto his face, the smile she likes, the one that crinkles up the corners of his eyes. He starts walking towards her and she feels her stomach flutter.

“And I'm going to kiss you,” he says, coming to stand right in front of her.

“You should,” she breathes.

And then he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, I struggled with this chapter. I feel like dialogue is not my strong suit, so I hope I kind of cleared some things up. And I'm trying to keep this fic light and not descend into angst like I normally do, which is also a struggle for me...
> 
> Also, I think one more part to wrap this up? Kind of like an epilogue maybe? I have no idea.


	10. Epilogue

The door opening interrupts them and when they both look up, Robb is standing there. He turns his eyes to the ceiling as he stalks by them towards his room, muttering curses like he's the _most_ put upon man on the entire planet.

Jon's head falls against the back of the couch and Sansa buries her face into his shoulder to stifle her giggles.

“I guess we should've gone to my room,” he sighs, removing his hand from under her sweater.

“Presumptuous,” she says haughtily and he snorts but doesn't point out that she is currently straddling him on the living room couch and his hand had _absolutely_ found her fancy lace bra that she had sworn to Marg he wouldn't see today (and he didn't _see_ it, so technically she's still right).

“There are going to be _rules_ ,” Robb says loudly as he stomps back out from his room with a piece of loose computer paper and a pen. “Sansa, please dismount my friend. I will make a list of _rules_ that we all must abide by. Number one, no fooling around in the living room.”

“We didn't make a list of rules when we caught Theon and that Jeyne girl,” Jon points out as Sansa gets off of him (and she tries to ignore that Jon shifts and pulls a pillow onto his lap). “Or that guy from the Pentoshi restaurant we had to stop going to.”

“Jeyne Poole is not related to me,” Robb says as he writes a large number two on the paper. “Two, you do not tell me about whatever you do. Three, do _not_ sext through me.” Jon raises an eyebrow at that one and Sansa rolls her eyes and they both start laughing and Robb huffs in annoyance.

“Your handwriting is terrible,” Sansa says, tilting her head to read his script. “Did we not go to the same school? Did the Septas not teach you better than that?”

“Don't get off track, these rules are _important_.”

“Shouldn't Theon be here for this? If this is apartment rules, I feel like our other roommate should be here to vote on them.”

“This isn't a vote! These are non-negotiable!”

Sansa sits back and buries her face into Jon's shoulder to hide her laughter and Jon slides his arm around her and even though he's trying to suppress it, she can feel him laughing, too.

“Rule _four_ ,” Robb says vehemently, “no _cuddling_ in the common areas.”

* * *

She's helping her mom bake Christmas cookies and they've roped Arya into helping. Rickon is sitting at the counter trying to swipe batter and it's Arya's job to guard the dough.

“Sweetheart, you seem distracted,” mom says to her as Sansa checks her phone for the millionth time.

“Sorry,” she turns it face down on the counter, like that will help with the urge to check it. Her mom gives her a knowing smile, but doesn't say anything else and Sansa manages not to look at her phone again.

Fifteen minutes later, there's a knock on the door and she practically throws the mixing bowl she's holding at Arya and runs out to the living room, but she's too late, dad is already opening the door.

She watches with bated breath as dad greets Jon and invites him in and it seems like they already know each other?

“Hello Jon,” mom's voice says from behind her and Jon looks up. His eyes land on Sansa and he gives her a small smile before he looks at her mom. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Hi Mrs Stark,” he says and walks forward and hands her a bottle of wine, looking incredibly nervous. Sansa watches her mom smile as she takes the wine and goes to put it in the kitchen. “Hey,” he turns his eyes to her and she gives him a brilliant smile.

“Hey.”

“Well look who it is,” Robb's voice booms from the stairs as he comes down. “I invite you to Christmas for three years and you turn me down every time, but _Sansa_ invites you and suddenly you're Mr Social.”

“You're not nearly as pretty as Sansa,” Arya deadpans from the kitchen doorway. “Hey Jon.”

“You've all met?” Sansa asks, feeling slightly put off.

“When we moved into the apartment,” Jon explains. “They came to help.”

“Oh,” is all she can say and she wishes, again, for the millionth time, that she had never gone to King's Landing. Just another thing she'd missed while she was down South.

Jon seems to sense this and he takes her hand and gives it a small squeeze. She thinks he probably wants to do more than that but her _entire_ family is now here, with Rickon and Bran joining them.

“I”m making cookies,” she says, tugging him towards the kitchen.

“So I just don't exist now?” Robb asks with a sigh.

Jon laughs and turns to her, “I don't think I'd be very helpful baking. I'll hang with Robb, come find me when you're done?”

“Fine,” she pouts, sticking out her lower lip as far as she can.

“Don't let her get to you,” Robb comes up next to Jon and puts a hand over his eyes. “Don't look directly at her.”

Jon laughs as Robb drags him towards the basement, Rickon and Bran and Arya following as dad chuckles and goes back to watching golf on TV.

Sansa goes into the kitchen where mom has resumed baking. She picks up the sifter with a frown.

“Robb needs a girlfriend,” she tells her mom as she starts to aggressively sift flour.

* * *

Jon doesn't stay the whole Christmas break, but he's there for Christmas morning and after the chaos that is unwrapping presents, she tells him that this is the best Christmas she's ever had. And she means it. Last year she'd been itching to go back to King's Landing and see Joffrey and even before that, she hadn't appreciated her family like she should've. She does now.

“Best one I've had, too,” he says and she resists the urge to tell him that all of his Christmases from here on out will be like this. It's too soon, they've only been _officially_ dating for a week, she can't start talking about _forever_ (though she thinks Jon wouldn't be as freaked out as he probably should be).

* * *

She watches Robb and Margaery argue at dinner one night when the thought comes to her.

_Of course_ , how could she be so blind?

Marg and Jon were a terrible idea, but Marg and _Robb_? Her best friend and her brother? It's perfect.

She leans back in her chair as she starts to plan. She can't just pull out a notebook here, but when she gets back to her dorm, there will absolutely be plans afoot.

“What is it?” Jon leans over and says into her ear, keeping his voice low. “You have your meddling face on.”

She scowls at him (even though he's right).

When they're back at the apartment, she pushes Jon into his room and shuts the door, ignoring Robb's gagging and Theon's suggestive whistle.

“Really?” Jon asks, shrugging out of his coat and pulling his beanie off and tossing both onto his desk chair. “With Robb in the other room?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “I need your help.”

She tells him about her plan to set up Marg and Robb and while she's still in the middle of it, Jon falls face first onto his bed with a groan.

“ _What_?” she asks, pulling at his arm to get him to turn over.

“You have a problem.” Jon turns onto his back and kicks his shoes off before swinging his legs fully onto the bed. “Don't you remember how the last matchmaking session turned out?”

She slips off her own shoes and crawls up onto the bed, keeping herself at arms length from him and ignoring him when he tries to reach for her.

“As far as I can tell,” she says in her best know it all voice, swatting his hand away, “the last one seems to have worked out just fine. I don't hear _you_ complaining.”

“I'm gonna _start_ complaining if you don't...” he trails off as he reaches for her again and he gets hold of her arm and tugs her off balance until she falls onto the bed next to him. He shifts onto his side and pulls her against him and leans forward to kiss her, but she rears back and puts a hand up to stop him.

“I need you to promise that you'll help me,” she says.

“And if I don't?”

She shrugs and starts to sit up and he sighs “ _fine_ ” and she lets herself be pulled back down and she doesn't even try to hide her triumphant smile.

* * *

The plan is all set to go. She's written out a whole notebook and yesterday she gave it to Jon so that he could study it, too. They're meeting Robb and Marg for lunch and she's decided today is the day she'll enact her plan.

She's plotted everything _perfectly_ , nothing can go wrong. She's never had a more detailed, thorough plan.

She and Jon sit and Robb joins them and Marg is late, as usual. Sansa feels the anticipation start, she knows _exactly_ what she's going to say when Marg gets here.

“Hey Robb,” Jon says through a mouthful of pizza, “why don't you ask Margaery out.”

Sansa feels her mouth drop open and she turns to look at Jon, who isn't looking at her.

“You'd be cool with that?” Robb asks Sansa and she shuts her mouth and nods.

There's about three minutes of silence as she glares at Jon and Jon ignores her and both he and Robb continue to eat before Marg gets there. She sits and puts her salad down on the table.

“Wanna go out Friday?” Robb says to Marg without preamble and Sansa wants to scream. This isn't the plan _at all_.

“With you?”

“Yeah, like a date.”

Marg looks him up and down and shrugs. “I guess there are worse ways to spend a Friday.”

Robb nods and says “cool.”

And that's it.

Sansa stabs into her own salad furiously and when she looks over at Jon, he's got smile that he's definitely trying to hide by shoving more pizza into his mouth.

* * *

“Absolutely not,” Marg says, typing something into her phone and not even bothering to look at Robb.

“But you came last time!” he argues.

“That was when I was trying to impress you,” she shrugs. “I don't need to do that anymore.”

They're sitting at a bar and Robb and Jon are going hiking this weekend now that winter is pretty much over and Robb is currently trying to convince his new girlfriend to join.

“We won't do the Ironwood Trail,” he promises and Marg rolls her eyes.

“How about you?” Jon asks and Sansa sighs.

“Nah, it was pretty enough last time, but I think I'm with Marg on this. We'll take the Theon route and sleep in.”

“You two are welcome to come cuddle with me,” Theon offers, inclining his beer at Sansa and Marg.

After a round of arguments between Robb and Theon (Jon seems to find the whole exchange amusing), Sansa calls it quits because she has a test tomorrow and she'd like to get _some_ sleep.

Jon walks her back to the dorm (she turns down his offer to stay at the apartment with him because she will get _no_ sleep there) and at one point he turns and asks her why she's so quiet.

“I think Theon needs a girlfriend,” she tilts her head to look at the stars and Jon stops in his tracks.

“Absolutely not,” he tells her. “Theon doesn't _want_ a girlfriend. And also? You're missing out on half the population that Theon would date.”

“Fine, we need to find Theon a girlfriend _or boyfriend_ ,” she amends.

“Again, he doesn't _want_ a relationship, and you need to stop meddling.”

“It's worked out every time!”

“You have a problem.”

“What about that guy, from your Stat class? The one that met us at the bar that one time?”

Jon opens his mouth to argue and pauses, looking thoughtful. “I think Satin is a little too domestic for Theon.”

“ _Or,_ ” she argues, “they could balance each other out.”

“You're unstoppable,” he groans and rubs his hands over his face. They're at her dorm now and she turns and gives him a smile and leans up to kiss him.

“The next time we all go out, why don't you just invite him along and we'll see how it goes?”

She leaves him before he can argue.

* * *

She watches Jon cross the stage to accept his diploma and she cheers so loudly she thinks she'll lose her voice. All of her siblings are waving signs she's made specifically to embarrass him. She also has a set for Robb, Theon, and Satin.

After the ceremony, her parents take everyone out to eat. Jon doesn't have parents, Theon's dad didn't bother to come, and Satin ran away from home when he was a kid, so her parents are treating them all to a dinner (the Starks practically adopted Theon as a kid, but now they've taken on Jon and, because of Theon, Satin too).

Jon spends the dinner with his arm slung over the back of Sansa's chair as he discusses football with her dad. Satin and Arya seem to bond over kung fu movies and Theon spends most of the time explaining to Margaery what a poor decision she's made in dating Robb (complete with many childhood Robb stories that Sansa is all too willing to elaborate on).

The three of them have already gotten an apartment together and Jon will be starting a job at the hospital he interned at last summer. She knows he eventually wants to get his Masters and she knows what he really wants to do is help kids that were like him, but he takes the job he can get for now and he tells her he'll work his way up. She doesn't doubt this.

It feels strange, though, that Jon will have a full time job and won't live as near to campus as he does now. She feels a little like he's leaving her behind even though he's not. He'll only be fifteen minutes further and she'll be in classes all day, so it's not like she'll see him that much less than she does now. But still, he won't be at the dining hall for lunch, they won't meet up between classes.

She tells herself not to worry. She remembers the promise she made to herself at the beginning of this relationship – to not doubt, to not create problems when there are none, and to listen. It's worked out so far and she tells herself to keep faith that it will continue to.

* * *

“What about this one!” she sighs, pointing at another puppy as they pass it's cage. Jon laughs.

“You've said that about every dog we've passed.”

“I _meant_ it about every dog,” she says as she squats down in front of the cage. The puppy inside jumps and barks and she giggles.

She knows Jon likes dogs, but he's not falling in love with every single one like she is (or, if he is, he's better at hiding it). She stays at the corgi puppy and makes faces at it as Jon moves down the row and he stops about three quarters of the way down. The owner of the rescue comes and they start talking and she becomes curious, so she leaves the happy corgi and joins them.

When she gets to where Jon is, she looks into the cage and sees a white husky that's nearly fully grown.

“Guy says he's been here for a while,” Jon tells her as the owner moves off to give them some space. “He's an albino and the red eyes scare kids.”

Sansa makes a cooing noise and turns to the all white husky who looks back at her with his red eyes and tilts his head. The owner comes back with a set of keys and opens the cage to let Jon in.

“He's real well behaved,” the owner explains. “He's two years old and the red eyes... most families want a cute puppy.”

Jon's in the cage holding his hand out for the husky to sniff.

“Does he make a lot of noise?” she asks because so far she hasn't heard the husky make any.

“Nah,” the owner shakes his head. “Nearly silent. It's weird.”

She watches Jon and the dog interact for a while before Jon turns to her and asks her what she thinks (she wants to laugh because she can already tell Jon's made up his mind).

“I love him,” she says and Jon smiles and nods his head.

“Yeah, me too.”

* * *

On their first anniversary, she gives him the Snow-tebook, complete with edits, and she watches Jon blush as he reads the pro/con list she's corrected (which is all pros now and she even taped in another page to continue the _very detailed_ list).

“The first anniversary is paper,” she tells him.

“I think that's for marriages?”

  
She shrugs and Jon leans over and kisses her and thanks her (she also got him a sweater because his wardrobe consists of hoodies and t-shirts but he's a professional now and has to go to work functions and look _nice_ ).

  
  


He gets her a signed vinyl of _The Night Queen_ and when she bursts into tears he shifts uncomfortably and says “I didn't know about the paper thing.”

  
  


She flings her arms around him (she makes sure the album is placed gently on the table first) and she sniffles into his shoulder and they stay on the couch for a while like that until Robb walks in and starts yelling “rule four! Rule four!”

  
  


She can't wait until she graduates in another year and a half. When she does, she and Jon will move in together and then they can cuddle all they want in the living room (and she pictures it, then, her and Jon curled up on the couch with Ghost, watching some dumb cooking show).

  
  


“Do we have to wait until I graduate to move in together?” she asks, throwing a look at Robb.

  
  


“You're gonna leave Marg all alone?”

  
  


“She can move in with Robb,” Sansa shrugs (Theon and Satin already have plans to move in together this May when their lease is up).

  
  


“You'd do that to her?” Jon asks with a serious expression and they both ignore the _hey!_ from Robb.

  
  


Sansa sighs and says “I guess not. Speaking of Robb,” she turns to her brother in the kitchen. “I can't remember if the rules say anything about telling my boyfriend I love him in the common area.”

  
  


Robb ponders this for a moment before nodding. “I'll allow it”.

  
  


She turns back to Jon and smiles and says “love you.”

“Love you, too,” he murmurs and leans forward to kiss her and they both ignore the gagging noises that Robb makes as he walks back to his room.

When they break apart, she snuggles in close to him, rules be damned, and she picks up the notebook and smiles at the puffy paint hearts and she traces Jon's name with her finger and she says a silent thank you to it, and to Jon, and to her own stupidity that got her into this mess in the first place (she wouldn't want to be anywhere else).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a while staring at this chapter and not quite knowing how to end it and then I realized that I was probably never going to be happy with an ending and I could've probably gone on forever with little vignettes but alas, things do need to end.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and sticking with me through this! I loved writing this, especially with the heaviness and angst of my other stuff.


End file.
